1 There's a wail from the islands of the sea,
There's a voice that is calling you and me,
In the old Ship of Zion,
The strong help of Zion,
The good news of Zion, carry ye!
"Come over and help us!" is the cry;
Come over and help us, or we die,
I see the wo falling,
I hear the voice calling,
Oh, Ship of Salvation, thither fly.
2 There's a moan from the desert, full of pain,
There's a sigh over Afric's sunny plain.
In the old Ship of Zion,
The strong help of Zion,
Bear good news of Zion o'er the main.
"Come over and help us!" is the cry;
Come over and help us, or we die,
Across the wide waters,
Hear Afric's daughters!
Oh, Ship of Salvation, thither fly.
3 There's a groan from the Ganges where they fall,
At the fret of the Idols, in their thrall,
In the old Ship of Zion,
The strong help of Zion,
The good news of Zion, bear them all!
"Come over and help us!" is the cry;
Come over and help us, or we die,
I see idols falling,
And India calling,
Oh, Ship of Salvation, thither fly.