The Heathen at Your Door

Far away across the ocean

Comes a call for Gos­pel light;

Millions now are dy­ing dai­ly

Lost in su­per­sti­tion’s night;

Let us give our­selves

our mo­ney—

Give it in abun­dant store

But not for­get the hea­then

At our ve­ry door.

Don’t for­get our bro­thers

Calling o’er the sea;

Don’t for­get the neigh­bors

Next to you and me;

We may nev­er bear the mes­sage

To some nee­dy dist­ant shore

But we can win the hea­then

At our ve­ry door.

We may nev­er take the Gos­pel

Far away from our own home;

We may nev­er leave our loved ones

Over land and sea to roam;

Darkest Af­ri­ca and In­dia

We per­haps will ne’er ex­plore

But not for­get the hea­then

At our ve­ry door.

Do not sigh to do some great thing

That will make your name re­sound

After you for years are sleep­ing

Underneath a lit­tle mound;

We will feel re­paid in Heav­en

When we reach that shin­ing shore

If one is there to greet us

Saved at our own door.