Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Georgian Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Georgian Verse.  1909.
 
From Greenland’s Icy Mountains
By Reginald Heber (1783–1826)
 
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,        5
  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,        10
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,        15
  Bows down to wood and stone!
 
Can we, whose souls are lighted
  With wisdom from on high,
Can we to men benighted
  The lamp of life deny?        20
Salvation! oh, salvation!
  The joyful sound proclaim,
Till each remotest nation
  Has learn’d Messiah’s name!
 
Waft, waft, ye winds, his story,        25
  And you, ye waters, roll,
Till like a sea of glory,
  It spreads from pole to pole;
Till o’er our ransomed nature,
  The Lamb for sinners slain,        30
Redeemer, King, Creator,
  In bliss returns to reign!
 
 
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