Souls in hea­then dark­ness ly­ing,
Where no light has brok­en through;
Souls that Je­sus bought by dy­ing,
Whom His soul in tra­vail knew;
Thousand voic­es
Call us o’er the wa­ters blue;
Thousand voic­es
Call us o’er the wa­ters blue.

Christians, heark­en! None has taught them
Of His love so deep and dear;
Of the pre­cious price that bought them:
Nail, and thorn, and cru­el spear.
Ye who know Him,
Guide them from their dark­ness drear;
Ye who know Him,
Guide them from their dark­ness drear.

Still the earth hath cru­el places,
Wrath, and hate, and ven­geance grim,
Still God looks on hu­man fac­es
Heavenward turned, but not to Him;
Slaves in bond­age,
Worse than of fet­tered limb;
Slaves in bond­age,
Worse than of fet­tered limb.

Lo! the hills for har­vest whit­en,
All along each dist­ant shore.
Seaward far the is­lands bright­en,
Light of nat­ions, lead us o’er!
When we seek them,
Let Thy Spir­it go be­fore;
When we seek them,
Let Thy Spir­it go be­fore.

Haste, oh, haste, and spread the tid­ings
Let no shore be left un­trod,
Let no bro­ther’s bit­ter chid­ings
Haunt us from the fur­ther sod;
Tell the hea­then
All the pre­cious truths of God,
Tell the hea­then
All the pre­cious truths of God.