Hymns, no. 127
O’er the Gloomy Hills of Darkness

1. O’er the gloomy hills of darkness, Look, my soul, be still and gaze; All the promises do travail With the glorious day of grace; Blessed jubilee, Blessed jubilee, Let thy glorious morning dawn!

2. Let the Indian and the Negro, Let the rude barbarian see That divine and glorious conquest Once obtained on Calvary. Let the gospel, Let the gospel Soon resound from pole to pole.

3. Kingdoms wide that sit in darkness, Grant them, Lord, the glorious light; And from eastern coast to western May the morning chase the night— Chase the darkness, Chase the darkness From their long benighted eyes.

4. Fly abroad, thou mighty gospel; Win and conquer, never cease; So Immanuel’s fair dominions Shall extend and still increase, Till the kingdoms, Till the kingdoms Of the world are all his own.