WHEN the morning paints the skies,
And the birds their songs renew,
Let me from my slumbers rise,
Saying, "What would Jesus do ?"

When I ply my daily task,
And the round of toil pursue,
Let me every moment ask,
"What would Jesus do ?"

Would the foe my heart beguile,
Whispering thoughts and words untrue ?
Let me to his subtlest wile
Answer, "What would Jesus do ?"

Countless mercies from above
Day by day my pathway strew,
Father, I would prove my love,
Asking, "What would Jesus do ?"

Ever let Thy love, O God,
Fill my spirit through and through,
While I tread where He hath trod,
Whispering, "What would Jesus do ?"