From Greenland’s Icy Mountains Reginald Heber, 1819 alt. copyright status is Public Domain Subject: Missionary Scripture: Matthew 28:19-20 Missionary Hymn [.xml] Lowell Mason, 1823 copyright status is Public Domain Key: E♭ Meter: 13.13.13.13 Learn about music formats... view sheet music [.pdf] [.sib] stop midi [.mid] This song in other languages: .pdf Deutsch (German) .pdf Pусский (Russian)	Now playing MIDI. It may take a few seconds to begin. From Greenland’s icy mountains, from India’s coral strand; Where Afric’s sunny fountains roll down their golden sand: From many an ancient river, from many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver their land from error’s chain. What though the spicy breezes blow soft o’er Ceylon’s isle; Though every prospect pleases, and only man is vile? In vain with lavish kindness the gifts of God are strown; The heathen in his blindness bows down to wood and stone. Shall we, whose souls are lighted with wisdom from on high, Shall we to those benighted the lamp of life deny? Salvation! O salvation! The joyful sound proclaim, Till earth’s remotest nation has learned Messiah’s Name. Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, and you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, it spreads from pole to pole: Till for His ransomed people the Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, in bliss returns again.

From Greenland’s Icy Mountains

Missionary Hymn [.xml]

Key: E♭

Meter: 13.13.13.13

show score view sheet music [.pdf] [.sib]

This song in other languages:

PDF .pdf Deutsch (German)

PDF .pdf Pусский (Russian)

Now playing MIDI.

It may take a few seconds to begin.

From Greenland’s icy mountains, from India’s coral strand;
Where Afric’s sunny fountains roll down their golden sand:
From many an ancient river, from many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver their land from error’s chain.
What though the spicy breezes blow soft o’er Ceylon’s isle;
Though every prospect pleases, and only man is vile?
In vain with lavish kindness the gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness bows down to wood and stone.
Shall we, whose souls are lighted with wisdom from on high,
Shall we to those benighted the lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation! The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth’s remotest nation has learned Messiah’s Name.
Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, and you, ye waters, roll,
Till, like a sea of glory, it spreads from pole to pole:
Till for His ransomed people the Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator, in bliss returns again.