1 Go, ye messengers of God,
Like the beams of morning fly;
Take the wonder-working rod,
Wave the banner cross on high!

2 Go to many a tropic isle
On the bosom of the deep;
Where the skies for ever smile
And the blacks for ever weep.

3 Where the golden gates of day
Open on the balmy East,
Wide the bleeding cross display,
Spread the Gospel’s richest feast.

4 Visit ev'ry heathen soil,
Ev'ry barren, burning strans,--
Bid each dreary region smile,
Lovely as the promis'd land.

5 In yon wilds of stream and shade,
Many an Indian wigwam trace;
And with words of love persuade
Savages to sue for grace.

6 Cirumnavigate the Ball--
Visit ev'ry soil and sea;
Preach the cross of Christ to all;
Jesus’ love is full and free.