Classic Poem

God who created me
Nimble and light of limb,
In three elements free,
To run, to ride, to swim,
Not when the sense is dim,
But now from the heart of joy,
I would remember Him:
Take the thanks of a boy.

Jesu, King and Lord,
Whose army goes to fight,
Gird me with Thy sword,
Swift and sharp and bright.
Thee would I serve if I might
And conquer if I can,
From day-dawn till night,
Take the strength of a man.

Spirit of Love and Truth,
Breathing in grosser clay,
The light and flame of youth,
Delight of men in the fray,
Wisdom in strength's decay;
From pain, strife, wrong to be free,
This best gift I pray,
Take my spirit to Thee.