In the foreign heathen country,
Where the people know not God,
I am going there to preach His precious word,
Where they bow to worship idols,
I am going there to stay,
Where I’ll labor in the vineyard of the Lord.
O, I’ll soon be with my loved ones
In my happy, heavenly home;
Even now the thought my soul with rapture thrills;
So, goodbye, my friends and brethren,
For my time has come to go,
I must leave you on the dear, old battlefield.
I am called to bear a message
To the heathen far away,
And for years, o’er there a stranger, I may roam,
Just to tell them of a Savior,
One who died to save them all;
That’s the reason why I leave my native home.
Many days I’ll climb the hillsides,
In the sunshine and the rain,
Many days I’ll be in hunger and in thirst,
Just to tell them that our Lord is
Coming back to earth again,
With His gifts and blessings all as at the first.
I will stand the trial and hardships
Just to tell them precious truths,
That the Gospel of our Savior doth contain,
And if they will but obey them
And be faithful to the end,
Up in Heaven we will meet you all again.
We’ll not all be foreign laborers,
But the time will soon arrive,
When our mission we have faithfully fulfilled,
When our message is delivered
And ‘tis said of us,
Then in triumph we’ll depart the battlefield.