1.From Greenland's icy mountains,From India's coral strand,Where Afric's sunny fountainsRoll down their golden sand,From many an ancient river,From many a palmy plain,They call us to deliverTheir land from error's chain.2.What tho' the spicy breezesBlow soft o'er Ceylon's isle;Tho' ev'ry prospect pleases,And only man is vile;In vain with lavish kindnessThe 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 men benighted,The lamp of life deny?Salvation, O salvation!The joyful sound proclaimTill earth's remotest nationHas heard Messiah's name.4.Waft, waft, ye winds, His story,Ye waters, onward roll,Till, like a sea of glory,It spreads from pole to pole;Till o'er our ransomed natureThe Lamb for sinners slainRedeemer, King, Creator--In bliss returns to reign.