1 Rise, ye heralds of salvation,
Blow the gospel trumpet, blow;
Go to ev'ry tribe and nation,
Hear! your Master bids you go.
Hark! his word, his Spirit urges,
Count no enterprise too hard;
Dauntless cross the mountain surges,
Christ himself will be your guard.

2 God protects, what power can harm you?
Winds and seas his word obey;
Why should threat'ning ills alarm you?
All are subject to his sway.
Quit no duty, fear no danger,
Go to all the fallen race,
Say to every outcast stranger,
You may now be saved by grace.

3 Go, with heavenly ardour burning,
Bright with Christ's transmitted rays,
Comfort those in darkness mourning,
Turn their sighs to songs of praise.
Bear his cross--your joy and glory
Spread your Master's glorious fame;
Tell his crucifixion-story,
Tell the world has wond'rous name.

4 Idols then shall fall like Dagon,
Heathen darkness flee away;
Every poor, benighted pagan,
See the light of gospel day:
Deserts shall rejoice with singing,
Lonely wastes shall lift their voice,
Barren wilds, with verdure springing,
Bloom a fruitful paradise.

5 Sing, ye saints, a day of gladness
Dawns already from on high;
Put on joy for sable sadness,
Wipe the tear, repress the sigh.
Soon will Zion's King descending,
Clothed in regal robes appear,
Earth shall to his sceptre bending,
Hail the great millennial year.