They have gone to the land where the patriarchs rest,
Where the bones of the prophets are laid,
Where the chosen of Israel the promise possessed,
And Jehovah His mandate displayed.
To the land where the Savior of sinners once trod,
Where He labored and languished and died;
Where He triumphed o’er death and ascended to God,
As He captive captivity led. They have gone to the land where the Gospel’s glad sound
Sweetly tuned by the angels above
Was re-echoed on earth thro’ the regions around,
In the accents of heavenly love.
Where the Spirit descended in tokens of flame,
The rich gifts of His grace to reveal;
Where apostles wrought signs in Immanuel’s name,
For the truth of their mission to seal. They have gone—the glad heralds of mercy—have gone,
To the land where the martyrs once bled;
Where the beasts and false prophet have since trodden down,
The fair fabric that Zion had reared.
Where the churches once planted, and watered, and blessed,
With the dews of the Spirit distilled,
Have been smitten, despoiled! and by heathen possessed,
And the places that knew them defiled. They have gone, O Thou Shepherd of Israel! have gone,
The glad mission in love to restore;
Thou wilt never forsake them or leave them alone,
Thy rich blessings we humbly implore.
Let Thy blessing go with them—O be Thou their Shield
From the shafts of the fowler that fly;
O Thou Savior of sinners! Thine arm be revealed
In Thy mercy and might from on high. |
