Paying a visit to sorrow's abode,
Helping a burdened one o'er a rough road;
This sweet thought making duty delight,
Turning the shadows of gloom into light—
Just to please Jesus.
Staying at home with the children, perchance,
Watching the sick one's oft-wandering glance;
Sweeping and dusting, and tidying home
Deeds not recorded 'neath Fame's painted dome—
Just to please Jesus.
Turning the eye from the vanity show,
Sparkling and flashing with glittering glow;
Turning away to the quiet and calm,
Singing in secret a thanksgiving psalm, —
Just to please Jesus.
Swinging the hammer if duty demands,
Plying the needle with quick, willing hands;
Using the pencil, the pick, or the pen,
Serving my Lord and my own fellowmen—
Just to please Jesus.
Giving a smile or taking a hand,
Leading lost feet to a far better Land;
Doing and thinking, and hearing and seeing,
Eating and drinking and working and being—
Just to please Jesus.