^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
You bring the Hymnal, I'll bring the History
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
In 1819 Pastor Dean Shipley was sitting in his church office with
his son-in-law, Reginald Heber. The next week they were taking a
special offering for the "Society of the propagation of the
Gospel in Foreign countries", and he wanted a special poem
to go along with the occasion. So he turned to Reginald and said,
"What's the use in having a poet in the family if you can't
help me at a time like this? Write me a missions poem."
After being persuaded to try, Reginald sat down and in fifteen
minutes wrote down the first three stanzas of "From
Greenland's Icy Mountains." A few minutes later, he
wrote the climax of his poem in stanza four. Reginald did not
know that later on in his own life he would also receive the call
from "India's coral strand", and serve the rest of his
life in the city of Calcutta.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From Greenland's icy mountains, from India's coral strand,
Where Africa's sunny fountains roll down their golden sands,
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 men beknighted 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, its spreads from pole to pole:
Till o'er our ransomed nature the lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator, in bliss returns to reign.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~