From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand, â From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain â 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 strown ; The heathen, in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone.
3. Shall we, whose souls are lighted With wisdom from on high â Shall we, to men benighted, The lamp of life deny ? Salvation ! oh, 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 !