My thoughts had journeyed far away from the little chapel and its earnest worshippers. I was recalled by the preacher’s voice reciting his closing sentence—
“And I saw, and I heard a voice of many angels round the throne . . . and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; saying, with a great voice, Worthy is the Lamb that hath been slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and might, and honour, and glory, and blessing.”
We stood up to sing the concluding hymn—one that has for long been a great favourite of mine—
Coming, coming, yes, they are,
Coming, coming, from afar;
From the wild and scorching desert,
Afric’s sons of colour deep;
Jesu’s love has drawn and won them,