Look from Thy sphere of endless day,

O God of mercy and of might!

In pity look on those who stray

Benighted, in this land of light.

In peopled vale, in lonely glen,

In crowded mart, by stream or sea,

How many of the sons of men

Hear not the message sent from Thee!

Send forth Thy heralds, Lord, to call

The thoughtless young, the hardened old,

A scattered, homeless flock, till all

Be gathered to Thy peaceful fold.

Send them Thy mighty Word to speak,

Till faith shall dawn, and doubt depart,

To awe the bold, to stay the weak,

And bind and heal the broken heart.

Then all these wastes, a dreary scene

That makes us sadden, as we gaze,

Shall grow with living waters green,

And lift to heaven the voice of praise.