A cry, as of pain, again and again,
Is borne o’er the de­serts
And wide spread­ing main;
A cry from the lands
That in dark­ness are ly­ing,
A cry from the hearts
That in sor­row are sigh­ing;
It comes un­to me;
It comes un­to thee;
Oh what—oh what
Shall the an­swer be?

Oh! hark to the call;
It comes un­to all
Whom Je­sus hath res­cued
From sin’s dead­ly thrall;
Come ov­er and help us!
In bond­age we lang­uish;
Come ov­er and help us!
We die in our an­guish!
It comes un­to me;
It comes un­to thee;
Oh what—oh what
Shall the an­swer be?

It comes to the soul
That Christ hath made whole,
The heart that is long­ing
His name to ex­tol;
It comes with a cho­rus
Of pi­ti­ful wail­ing;
It comes with a plea
Which is strong and pre­vail­ing;
For Christ’s sake to me;
For Christ’s sake to thee;
Oh what—oh what
Shall the an­swer be?

We come, Lord, to Thee,
Thy ser­vants are we;
Inspire Thou the an­swer,
And true it shall be!
If here we should work,
Or afar Thou should send us,
Oh grant that Thy mer­cy
May ev­er at­tend us,
That each one may be
A wit­ness for Thee,
Till all the earth
Shall Thy glo­ry see!