The Book of Worship ‎#389

389. 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 sand,--
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 strown;
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone!

3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted
with wisdom from on high,--
Shall we to those benighted,
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation, oh salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
Till each 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!

Text Information

• First Line: From Greenland's icy mountains
• Meter: 7s & 6s.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1867
• Topic: Ordaining Instrumentalities: Missions

Tune Information

(No tune information)