Once again, dear Lord, we
pray
For the children far away,
Who have never even heard
Name of Jesus, sweetest word.
Little lips that Thou hast
made,
’Neath the far off temple’s
shade
Give to gods of wood and
stone
Praise that should be all
Thine own.
Little hands, whose
wondrous skill
Thou hast given to do Thy
will,
Offerings bring, and serve
with fear
Gods that cannot see or hear.
Teach them, O Thou
heav’nly King,
All their gifts and praise to
bring
To Thy Son, Who died to prove
Thy forgiving, saving love.
