1280
8s, 7s & 4s.
All the kindreds of the nations.
Psalm 22:27.
O’er the gloomy hills of darkness,
Look, my soul, be still and gaze;
All the promises do travail
With a glorious day of grace:
Blessed jubilee,
Let thy glorious morning dawn.
2 Let the Indian, let the negro,
Let the rude barbarian see,
That divine and glorious conquest
Once obtained on Calvary:
Let the gospel
Loud resound from pole to pole.
3 Kingdoms wide that sit in darkness,
Grant them, Lord, the glorious light;
And from eastern coast to western,
May the morning chase the night!
And redemption,
Freely purchased, win the day.
4 Fly abroad, thou mighty gospel!
Win and conquer! never cease!
May thy lasting wide dominion
Multiply and still increase!
Sway thy scepter,
Saviour, all the world around.
Williams.