445 ~ From Greenland’s Icy Mountains
1
From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sands, From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
2
What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile; In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strewn; The heathen in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone.
3
Can men, whose souls are lighted With wisdom from on high, Can they to men benighted The lamp of life deny? Salvation! O salvation! The joyful sound proclaim, Till earth's remotest nation Has learned Messiah's name.
4
Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole; Till o'er our ransomed nature The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.