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DEPARTURE OF MISSIONARIES FOR CEYLON.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

DEPARTURE OF MISSIONARIES FOR CEYLON.

Wave, wide Ceylon, your foliage fair,
Your spicy fragrance freely strew;
See, Ocean's threatening surge we dare,
To bear salvation's gift to you.

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Hail! ye who long with faithful hand
Have fondly till'd that favor'd soil,
We come, we come, a brother-band
To share the burden of your toil.
Land of our birth! we may not stay
The ardor of hearts to tell,
Friends of our youth! we dare not say
How deep within our souls ye dwell.
But when the dead, both small and great
Shall stand before the Judge's seat,
When sea and sky and earthly state
All like a baseless vision fleet,
The hope that then some heathen eye
Thro' us, an angel's glance may raise,
Bids us to vanquish nature's tie,
And turn her parting tear to praise.