Westward, Lord, the world alluring,

Has Thy risen day-star beamed,

And, the sinking soul assuring,

O’er the world’s wide ocean streamed.

Westward, still, the midnight breaking,

Westward, still, its light be poured!

Heathen Thy possession making,

Utmost lands Thy dwelling, Lord!

Westward, where the waving prairie,

Dark as slumbering ocean, lies,

Let thy starlight, Son of Mary,

O’er the shadowed billows rise!

Here be heard, ye herald voices,

Till the Lord his glory shows,

And the lonely place rejoices

With the bloom of Sharon’s rose.

Where the wilderness is lying,

And the trees of ages nod,

Westward, in the desert crying,

Make a highway for our God.

Westward, till the church be kneeling

In the forest aisles so dim,

And the wild-wood’s arches pealing

With the people’s holy hymn.