A mighty river goes rolling on,
Mighty beyond our ken;
And this is the river that rushes along,
Children and women and men.
They’re living in darkness and dying in sin,
Children and women and men;
They’re plunging from Now to an awful Then,
Hundreds of millions of men!
Oh, what can we do to help them?
Christ died for these millions we know;
But someone must take them this message of love!
Shall I go? or help those who go?
Go count all the stars on a lovely night,
Count them twice over again;
The number is naught to the millions of souls,
Children and women and men!
They’re passing to heaven or hast‘ning to hell,
Hast’ning to weal or to woe!
Yet Jesus would have us to warn them in time:
Shall we obey, or say “No”?
This river flows on to eternity,
Never returning again!
From the North and the South, from the East and the West,
Hundreds of millions of men!
‘Tis reddened by blood, it is blackened by sin,
Sorrow and mourning and woe!
We dare not sit still, or go calmly to sleep,
Jesus commands us to “Go.”
Oh what can we do for these poor, dark souls,
Dying in blackness of night?
For how can we rest while the river still rolls,
We who are the children of light?
O Lord, we are coming, are coming to Thee!
Take us and use us to-day;
Remove all the hindrances, set us on fire,
And have with us all Thine own way.
E. E. PICKARD