Scripture Verse

From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, My name shall be great among the Gentiles. Malachi 1:11


Words: Hen­ry W. Fox, 1848. This hymn was writ­ten for the ju­bi­lee of the Church Mis­sion­ary So­cie­ty, prob­ab­ly in Ma­sul­i­pa­tam (now Mac­hil­i­pat­nam, An­dhra Pra­desh), In­dia, where Fox had found­ed the Tel­e­gu Mis­sion.

Music: Ju­bi­lee John H. Maun­der (1858–1920) (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Maun­der (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Henry W. Fox


I hear ten thousand voices singing,
Their praises to the Lord on high;
Far distant shores and hills are ringing
With anthems of their nations’ joy.
Praise ye the Lord! for He has given,
To lands in darkness hid, His light;
As morning rays light up the heaven,
His Word has chased away our night.

On China’s shores I hear His praises,
From lips that once kissed idol stones;
Soon as His banner He upraises,
The Spirit moves the breathless bones—
Speed, speed! Thy Word o’er land and ocean;
The Lord in triumph has gone forth;
The nations hear with strange emotion,
From East to West, from South to North.

The song has sounded o’er the waters,
And India’s plains re-echo joy;
Beneath the moon sit India’s daughters,
Soft singing, as the wheel they ply—
Thanks to Thee, Lord! for hope of glory,
For peace on earth to us revealed;
Our cherished idols fell before Thee,
Thy Spirit has our pardon sealed.

On Afric’s sunny shore, glad voices
Wake up the morn of Jubilee;
The negro, once a slave, rejoices,
Who’s freed by Christ is doubly free:
Sing, brothers, sing! yet many a nation
Shall hear the voice of God and live;
E’en we are heralds of salvation,
The Word He gave we’ll freely give.

Fair are New Zealand’s wooded mountains,
Deep glens, blue lakes and dizzy steeps;
But sweeter than the murmuring fountains
Rises the song from holy lips:
By blood did Jesus come to save us,
So deeply stained with brothers’ blood;
Our hearts we’ll give to Him who gave us
Deliverance from the fiery flood.

O’er prairies wild the song is spreading
Where once the war-cry sounded loud;
But now the evening sun is shedding
His rays upon a praying crowd:
Lord of all worlds, eternal Spirit!
Thy light upon our darkness shed;
For Thy dear love, for Jesus’ merit,
From joyful hearts be worship paid.

Hark! hark! a louder sound is booming
O’er Heav’n and earth, o’er land and sea;
The angel’s trump proclaims His coming—
Our day of endless Jubilee:
Hail to Thee, Lord! Thy people praise Thee;
In every land Thy name we sing;
On Heaven’s eternal throne upraise Thee;
Take Thou Thy power, Thou glorious king.