Zinzendorff, and other poems | ||
HOME MISSIONS.
Turn thee to thine own broad waters,
Labor in thy native earth,
Call salvation's sons and daughters
From the clime that gave thee birth.
Labor in thy native earth,
Call salvation's sons and daughters
From the clime that gave thee birth.
Here are pilgrim-souls benighted,
Here are evils to be slain,
Graces in their budding blighted,
Spirits bound in error's chain.
Here are evils to be slain,
Graces in their budding blighted,
Spirits bound in error's chain.
Raise the Gospel's glorious streamer
Where yon cloud-topp'd forest waves,
Follower of the meek Redeemer!
Serve him 'mid thy fathers' graves.
Where yon cloud-topp'd forest waves,
Follower of the meek Redeemer!
Serve him 'mid thy fathers' graves.
Zinzendorff, and other poems | ||