How many in our fa­vored land,
This ho­ly day pro­fane;
Neglect the Sav­ior’s gra­cious call,
And take His name in vain;
Then while we pray for hea­then climes,
Far o’er the crys­tal foam,
O let us ev­er bear in mind,
Our mis­sion field at home.

Refrain

Our mis­sion field at home,
Our mis­sion field at home;
May each and all re­mem­ber still,
Our mis­sion field at home.

Go feed My lambs, our Sav­ior said,
And bring them to My fold;
For us the same com­mand is giv’n,
As then to him of old;
While oth­ers toil for dy­ing souls,
Far o’er the ocean’s foam,
Be ours to wave its no­ble cause,
Our mis­sion field at home.

Refrain

How ma­ny a poor ne­glect­ed child
With plead­ing eye we meet;
A gen­tle word might hi­ther guide
Its lit­tle wan­der­ing feet;
A pre­cious lamb, that God may bless,
Beneath this hal­lowed dome,
Then let us ev­er bear in mind,
Our mis­sion field at home.

Refrain