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.
If you know where to get a good photo of Maunder (head-and-shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels), would you ?
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.