1 Proud Babylon yet waits her doom;
Nor can her tottering palace fall,
Till some blest messenger arise
The spacious heathen world to call.

2 And see the glorious time approach!
Behold the mighty angel fly,
The Gospel tidings to convey
To every land beneath the sky!

3 O see, on both the Indias coast,
And Africa’s unhappy shore,
The unlearned savages press to hear;
And hearing, wonder and adore.

4 See, while the joyful truth is told,
That Jesus left His throne in Heaven,
And suffered, died and rose again,
That guilty souls might be forgiven.

5 See what delight, unfelt before,
Beams in his fixed attentive eye;
And hear him ask, For wretched me,
Did this divine Redeemer die?

6 Ah! why have ye so long forborne
To tell such welcome news as this?
Go now, let every sinner hear,
And share in such exalted bliss.

7 The islands, waiting for His law,
With rapture greet the sacred sound;
And, taught the Saviour’s precious name,
Cast all their idols to the ground.

8 Now, Babylon, thy hour is come,
Thy cursed foundation shall give way,
And thine eternal overthrow
The triumphs of the cross display.