1 Far from our dear native land so fair,
Dwell the poor heathen in sin,
No one to teach them the way of life–
Of Jesus, the Savior of men;
Must they then perish for want of the light,
For want of someone who doth know
Salvation’s story so full and so free?
Oh, help them, let somebody go.

Give of your means, it will help them to come,
Give, tho’ the gift in sight may be small;
God will add to it his blessing so great,
And save them and bless us all.

2 Here in the dear native land we love,
Here where the gospel is known;
Many have never the story heard,
How Jesus has made them his own;
Shall they in ignorance pass away,
While we who would claim Jesus’ love
Slumber and dream we’ve secured the rest
That waits in the heaven above?

Give of your time, it will help them to come,
Give, tho’ the gift in sight may be small;
God will add to it his blessing so great,
And save them and bless us all.

3 Nearer at home may be friends we love,
Often have heard this dear call–
Heard of his infinite love to them,
Yet hardened their hearts to it all;
Must we despair of their souls being saved?
Oh, then, have we tried all in vain?
Can we do nothing to lead up their thoughts
To Jesus and heaven again?

Give of your pray’rs, it will help them to come,
Give, tho’ the gift in sight may be small;
God will add to it his blessing so great,
And save them and bless us all.