I wan­dered just at ev­en,
Beside the sound­ing sea;
The whis­per­ing winds of Hea­ven
Their sto­ry told to me;
The east wind said, I’m hast­ing
From tro­pic Gang­es’ wave;
Where child­ren they were cast­ing
Within a wa­te­ry grave.

Refrain

A soft wind whis­pered,
Who will send or go,
To teach the hea­then
Jesus’ love to know?

The north wind told its sto­ry,
With one swift an­gry blast,
Of In­di­an of­fer­ings go­ry,
It saw, in rush­ing past;
Where far off north­ern na­tions
In for­ests dark and deep,
With fear­ful in­can­ta­tions
Their hea­then vigils keep.

Refrain

The south wind said, I’m tell­ing
Of po­lar south­ern night;
When an­gry surg­es swell­ing,
The dark­ened souls afright;
I saw no of­fer­ing burn­ing;
No in­cense filled the air;
No souls to God were turn­ing;
No gods they wor­ship there!

Refrain

The ev­en­ing winds passed o’er me,
The an­gry north­ern blast,
Across the sea be­fore me,
Went hast­ing, far and fast;
The ze­phyrs ceased their wail­ing,
And in my heart, I heard,
This pro­mise, ne­ver fail­ing,
The earth shall know the Lord!

Refrain