M. A. Thomson


O ZION, haste, thy mission high fulfilling,

To tell to all the world that God is Light,

That He who made all nations is not willing

One soul should perish, lost in shades of night.

Publish glad tidings, tidings of peace,

Tidings of Jesus, redemption and release.


Behold how many thousands still are lying

Bound in the darksome prison house of sin,

With none to tell them of the Saviour’s dying,

Or of the life He died for them to win.


Proclaim to every people, tongue, and nation

That God, in whom they live and move is Love:

Tell how He stooped to save His lost creation,

And died on earth that man might live above.


Give of thy sons to bear the message glorious;

Give of thy wealth to speed them on their way;

Pour out thy soul for them in prayer victorious;

And all thou spendest Jesus will repay.


He comes again: O Zion, ere thou meet Him,

Make known to every heart His saving grace;

Let none whom He hath ransomed fail to greet Him,

Through thy neglect, unfit to see His face.


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