From north and south and east and west,
When shall the peoples, long unblest,
All find their everlasting rest,
O Christ, in Thee?

When shall the climes of ageless snow
Be with the Gospel light aglow,
And all men their Redeemer know,
O Christ, in Thee?

When on each southern balmy coast,
Shall ransomed men, in countless host,
Rise, heart and voice, to make sweet boast,
O Christ, in Thee?

O when in all the Orient lands,
From cities white, and flaming sands,
Shall men lift dedicated hands,
O Christ, in Thee?

O when shall heathen darkness roll
Away in light, from pole to pole,
And endless day by every soul
Be found in Thee?

Bring, Lord, the long predicted hour,
The ages' diadem and flower,
When all shall find their refuge, tower,
And home in Thee!