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.
Jesus, King and Lord, whose are my foes 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 to 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.