In pi­ty to a dy­ing world,
Almighty Fa­ther, send Thy grace;
And let Thy ban­ner be unfurled,
And faith’s slow tri­umph speed its pace.

What mill­ions of im­mor­tal souls
Still live un­mind­ful of Thy sway!
And as death’s fear­ful tor­rent rolls,
Hundreds are dai­ly swept away.

O Lord, must crea­tures be un­done
Who from Thy hand re­ceive their breath?
Shall they be lost, for whom Thy Son
Came down to suf­fer shame and death?

Let so­ver­eign mer­cy in­ter­pose
To res­cue sin­ners from their doom;
And send Thy word to heal their woes,
And light their pas­sage to the tomb.

O spread Thy truth through ev­ery clime,
Teach stub­born souls to weep and pray;
Let this be the ac­cept­ed time,
And this sal­va­tion’s glo­ri­ous day.