"Come over and help us.”
1 HARK! what mean those lamentations,
Rolling sadly through the sky?
'Tis the cry of heathen nations,
"Come, and help us, or we die!"
2 Hear the heathen's sad complaining,
Christians hear their dying cry;
And, the love of Christ constraining,
Join to help them, ere they die.
Christians debtors to the Gentiles.
1 CHRISTIANS, the glorious hope we know,
Which soothes the heart in every wo,
While heathens, helpless, hopeless lie;
No ray
of glory meets their eye:
-O give to their desiring sight
The hope that Jesus brought to light!
2 Christians, ye taste the heavenly grace,
Which cheers believers in their race:
Uncheer'd by grace, through heathen gloom,
See millions hastening to the tomb :
-To heathen lands that grace convey,
Which trains the soul for endless day.
3 Christians, ye prize the Saviour's blood,
In which the soul is cleansed for God:
Millions of souls in darkness dwell,
Uncleansed from sin-exposed to hell:
-O strive that heathens soon may view
That precious blood, which cleanseth you.
Reply to the call of the Heathen for help.
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 Shall we, whose souls are lighted
With wisdom from on high,
Shall we to men benighted
The lamp of light deny?
Salvation! O salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
'Till each remotest nation
Has learn'd Messiah's name.
3 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 ransom'd nature
The Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator,
In bliss returns to reign.
Praise to the Creator and Redeemer.
1 FROM all that dwell below the skies
Let the Creator's praise arise;
Let the Redeemer's name be sung
Through every land, by every tongue.
2 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word;
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore,
Till suns shall rise and set no more.
1 MESSIAH, full of grace,
Redeem'd by Thee we plead
Thy promise made to Abraham's race,
To souls for ages dead:
Their bones as quite dried up,
Throughout our vale appear,
Cut off and lost their last faint hope
To see thy kingdom here.
2 Open their graves, and bring
The outcasts forth, to own
Thou art the Lord, their God and King,
Their true anointed One:
To save the race forlorn
Thy glorious arm display,
And show the world a nation born,
A nation in a day!
The field of the world.
1 HIGH on his everlasting throne
The King of saints his work surveys,
Marks the dear souls He calls his own,
And smiles on that peculiar race.
He rests well pleased their toil to see:
Beneath his easy yoke they move,
With all their heart and strength agree
In the sweet labour of his love.
2 His eye the world at once looks through,
A vast uncultivated field;
Mountains and vales in ghastly show,
A barren uncouth prospect yield.
Clear'd of the thorns by civil care,
A few less hideous wastes are seen;
Yet still they all continue bare,
And not one spot of earth is green.
3 See where the servants of their God,
A busy multitude, appear,
For Jesus day and night employed,
His husbandry they toil to clear.
The love of Christ their hearts constrains,
And strengthens their unwearied hands;
They spend their blood, and sweat, and pains,
To cultivate Emmanuel's lands.
4 Alarm'd at their successful toil,
Satan and his wild spirits rage,
They labour to tear up and spoil
And blast the rising heritage.
In every wilderness, they sow
The seed of death, the carnal mind;
They would not let one virtue grow,
Nor leave one seed of good behind.
5 Yet still the servants of their Lord
Look up and calmly persevere,
Supported by the Master's word,
The adverse powers they scorn to fear;
Gladly their happy work pursue :
The labour of their hands is seen,
Their hands the face of earth renew,
Some spots at least are lively green.
6 To dig the ground they thus bestow
Their lives; from every soften'd clod
They gather out the stones, and sow
The' immortal seed, the word of God.
They water it with tears and prayers,
Then long for the returning word;
Happy, if all their pains and cares
Can bring forth fruit to please their Lord.
7 Jesus their work delighted sees,
Their industry vouchsafes to crown;
He kindly gives the wish'd increase,
And sends the promised blessing down :
The sap of life, the Spirit's powers,
He rains incessant from above;
He all his gracious fulness showers
To perfect their great work of love.
8 O multiply thy sowers' seed,
And fruit we every hour shall bear;
Throughout the world thy gospel spread,
Thy everlasting grace declare:
We all in perfect love renewed,
Shall know the greatness of thy power,
Stand in the temple of our God
As pillars, and go out no more.
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