From Greenland’s Icy Mountains
From Greenland’s Icy Mountains
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.
What though the spicy breezes,
Blow soft o’er Ceylon’s isle;
Though ev’ry prospect pleases,
And only man is vile?
In vain, with lavish kindness,
The gifts of God are strown;
The heathen, in his blindness,
Bows down to wood and stone.
Can we, whose souls are lighted
By wisdom from on high,
Can we to men benighted
The lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation!
The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth’s remotest nation
Has learned 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.
IN 1819 a royal letter was sent to all parishes of the Church of England authorizing a collection to be taken to aid “The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Lands.” Reginald Heber’s father-in-law had asked him to preach at his Sunday evening service. When the royal letter came, Heber was also asked to write a hymn that would be appropriate for the special collection. Heber went into a corner of the room for twenty minutes and then returned to show three stanzas to his father-in-law. Heber then insisted on writing a fourth stanza to give a more triumphant ending to the hymn.
When he wrote the hymn, Heber didn’t know that India did not have coral strands, nor did he realize that he would soon be appointed bishop of Calcutta, India, where he would later die.
[Jesus] said to his disciples, “The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields.”
Matthew 9:37-38
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