In the lands of pagan darkness,
Millions perishing today;
Knowing naught of Je­sus’ goodness,
Naught of Christ, the living way.

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Millions calling; brother, listen—
Rushing, sweeping on to hell;
O’er the ocean let us hasten,
Christ’s redeeming love to tell.

Millions there in heathen blindness,
Going down to endless woe;
Knowing naught of Je­sus’ kindness,
How He died, He loved them so.

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Millions there in darkness pleading,
Calling now to you and me,
Brother, are you even heeding?
Calling now they are to thee.

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Millions there in darkness dying,
Christ unknown, without a hope;
Brother, they to you are crying,
As they thro’ their darkness grope.

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Millions there, great temples thronging,
Seeking help of wood and stone;
Brother, they for help are longing,
Help that can for sin atone.

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