1 Children of this favored nation,
Think of others far away;
Far beyond the rolling ocean,
Who in heathen darkness lay,
For the gloom is deep and dreadful
Which upon their minds is found,
They know not the God who made them,
Nor the Gospel's joyful sound.

Chorus:
Think of the unhappy heathen,
Oft remember them in prayer,
And bring willing offerings for them
That good men may to them bear,
The glad tidings, the glad tidings,
That salvation they may share.

2 O, 'tis sad to see them bowing,
Down to blocks of wood and stone,
Reverence to dumb idols showing,
Which is due to God alone.
'Tis most sad to hear them calling,
Unto gods who cannot save,
While by thousands they are falling
Daily in a hopeless grave. [Chorus]

3 Yes, remember the poor heathen--
Think if you were found to-day
Dwelling with them, Godless like them,
Just as ignorant as they,
Would you not desire that Christians
There would send the Bible true;
Then do now for the poor heathen,
As you would have done for you. [Chorus]