Oft They Break The Midnight


Oft they break the midnight stillness,
Voices floating o’er the sea,
Voices filled with tender pathos,
Asking help from you and me.
And I know my Christ, my Bible,
Is as truly theirs as mine;
And I know that I defraud them,
Not to share these gifts divine.

We, who never knew a sorrow
God’s dear smile could not illume,
Little dream how dense the darkness
Shrouding heathen souls in gloom.
And the Saviour’s last commission
Was in loving thought of them;
How his tender, sweet compassion
Doth our cold neglect condemn!

Christ, forgive the souls so faithless
To the trust thou didst repose;
For this sin let not Heaven’s portals
At the last against us close.
Bless, and by our gold and silver,
By our lips no longer dumb,
We will spread abroad thy gospel,
Till on earth thy kingdom come.