From Greenland’s icy mountains

From Greenland’s icy mountains

From India’s coral strand

Where Afric’s sunny fountains

Roll down their golden sand;

From many an ancient river

From many a palmy plain

They call us to deliver

Their land from error’s chain.

What though the spicy breezes

Blow soft on Ceylon’s isle;

Though every prospect pleases

And only man is vile;

In vain with lavish kindness

The gifts of God are strown;

The heathen

in his blindness

Bows down to wood and stone.

Can we

whose souls are lighted

With wisdom from on high;

Can we to men benighted

The lamp of life deny?

Salvation! O salvation!

The joyful sound proclaim

Till each remotest nation

Has learned Messiah’s name.

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.