Hymnal: The Christian Psalmist
Date: 1848
Compiler: S W Leonard and A D Fillmore
Publisher/Printer: S W Leonard
First Line: O turn you O turn you for why will you die
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Composer:
Meter: 11s
Tune:
Hymn Number: 97
Page Number: 135, click to see hymnal pages
LyicsFrom Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Africa'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 o'er Ceylon's Isle;
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man is vile man is vile;
In vain, with lavish kindness,
The gifts of God are strown,
The heathen, in their blindness,
Bow down to wood and stone.
Shall we, whose souls are lighted
By wisdom from on high,
Shall we, to man benighted,
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
Till each remotest nation
Has learnt 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.