Hark, the voice of Je­sus call­ing,
Who will go and work to­day?
Fields are ripe and har­vests wait­ing,
Who will bear the sheaves away?
Long and loud the Mas­ter calls us,
Rich re­ward He of­fers free;
Who will an­swer, glad­ly say­ing,
Here am I, send me, send me?

If you can­not cross the ocean,
And the dis­tant lands ex­plore,
You can find the lost around you,
You can help them at your door;
If you can­not give your thou­sands,
You can give the wi­dow’s mite;
What you tru­ly give for Je­sus,
Will be pre­cious in His sight.

If you can­not speak like an­gels,
If you can­not preach like Paul,
You can tell the love of Je­sus,
You can say He died for all.
If you can­not rouse the wick­ed,
With the judg­ment’s dread alarms,
You can lead the lit­tle child­ren
To the Sav­ior’s wait­ing arms.

If you can­not be the watch­man,
Standing high on Zi­on’s wall,
Pointing out the path to Hea­ven,
Offering life and peace to all,
With your pray­ers and with your boun­ties
You can do what Hea­ven de­mands;
You can be like faith­ful Aar­on,
Holding up the pro­phet’s hands.

If among the old­er peo­ple,
You may not be apt to teach,
Feed My lambs, said Christ, our shep­herd,
Place the food with­in their reach.
And it may be that the child­ren
You have led with trem­bling hand,
Will be found among your jew­els,
When you reach the bet­ter land.

Let none hear you id­ly say­ing,
There is no­thing I can do.
While the lost of earth are dy­ing,
And the Mas­ter calls for you;
Take the task He gives you glad­ly;
Let His work your plea­sure be;
Answer quick­ly when He calls you,
Here am I, send me, send me.