Where, for a thousand miles,
The sweet Ohio smiles,
On bed of sand;
Where prairies blossom broad,
Fair gardens sown by God,
And lakes their ocean-flood
Pour from His hand;
Where sleep in rest profound,
Beneath each ancient mound,
A buried race;
There, brother, go and teach;
From heart to heart shall reach
Thy free and earnest speech
Of heavenly grace.
Where the tall forest waves
Above those mouldering graves,
God’s truth declare;
While his first temples spread
Their arches o’er thy head,
Lift, o’er the slumbering dead,
The voice of prayer.
While rolls the living tide,
Down Alleghany’s side,
Its ceaseless flood;
Upon the mountains, there,
How beautiful appear
The feet of those who bear
Tidings of good!
O Thou, whose suns and rains
Upon those mighty plains
Fall evermore;
Send down the dews of peace,
The sun of righteousness,
And let Thy light increase
From shore to shore!
Source: A Book of Hymns for Public and Private Devotion (15th ed.) #417