There’s a cry from Ma­ce­don­ia—
Come and help us;
The light of the Gos­pel bring, oh come!
Let us hear the joy­ful tid­ings of sal­va­tion,
We thirst for the liv­ing spring.
O ye her­alds of the cross, be up and do­ing,
Remember the great com­mand! away!
Go ye forth and preach the Word
To ev­ery crea­ture,
Proclaim it in ev­ery land.
They shall ga­ther from the east,
They shall ga­ther from the west,
With the pa­tri­archs of old;
And the ran­somed shall re­turn
To the king­doms of the blest,
With their harps and crowns of gold.

Oh, how beau­ti­ful their feet up­on the mount­ains,
The tid­ings of peace who bring, who bring,
To the na­tions of the earth who sit in dark­ness,
And tell them of Zi­on’s king:
Then, ye her­alds of the cross, be up and do­ing,
Go work in your Mas­ter’s field, away!
Sound the trum­pet! sound the trum­pet
Of sal­va­tion!
The Lord is your strength and shield.
Let the dist­ant isles be glad,
Let them hail the Sav­ior’s birth,
And the news of par­don free,
Till the know­ledge of the truth
Shall ex­tend to all the earth,
As the wa­ters o’er the sea.

Ye’ve en­list­ed in the ar­my of the faith­ful,
Like he­roes the bat­tle fight! away!
There are foes on ev­ery hand that will as­sail you,
Then gird on your ar­mor bright;
With the ban­ner of the cross un­furled be­fore you,
The sword of the Spi­rit wield! away!
Ye shall con­quer through His mer­cy
Who hath loved you,
The Lord is your strength and shield.
Ye are march­ing to the land,
Where the saints in glo­ry stand,
And the just for joy shall sing:
Ye by faith may bring it nigh;
Ye shall reach it by and by,
And your shouts of tri­umph ring.