[82 words]
There comes a wail of anguish
Across the ocean wave-
It pleads for help, O Christians,
Poor dying souls to save.
Those far-off heathen natives,
Who sit in darkest night,
Now stretch their hands imploring,
And cry to us for light.
We have the blessed gospel;
We know its priceless worth;
We read the grand old story
Of Christ the Saviour’s birth.
O haste ye, faithful workers,
To them the tidings bear-
Glad tidings of salvation,
That they our light may share.
Anonymous