MISSION HYMN.
Onward, onward, men of Heaven!
Rear the gospel's banner high,
Rest not till its light is given,
Star of every pagan sky.
Bear it where the pilgrim-stranger
Faints 'neath Asia's vertic ray,
Bid the red-browed forest-ranger
Hail it, ere he fades away.
Where the arctic ocean thunders,
Where the topics fiercely glow,
Broadly spread its page of wonders,
Brightly bid its radiance flow.
India marks its lustre stealing,
Shivering Greenland loves its rays,
Afric 'mid her[1] deserts kneeling,
Lifts the untaught strain of praise.
Rude in speech, or grim in feature,
Dark in spirit, though they be,
Show that light to every creature,
Prince or vassal—bond or free.
Lo! they haste to every nation,
Host on host the ranks supply;
Onward! Christ is your salvation,
And your death is victory.