The shades of over-spreading death,
Revive at his first dawning light,
And deserts blossom at the sight.
3 The saints shall flourish in his days,
Dressed in the robes of joy and praise;
Peace, like a river, from his throne,
Shall flow to nations yet unknown.
Isaac Watts.
455 Missionary Hymn. 7s & 6s. D.
(1061) Condition of the Heathen.