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On Persia's hills the Sophi grope;
Dark Bunnah greets salvation's ray; Even jealous China's door of hope
Unbars, to give the Gospel way.
Old Ocean, with his isles, awakes,
And humble Afric wondering takes
Their steps the forest-children stay,
And lift their red brows to the day,
Which from the opening skies doth pour.
Then aid with prayer that holy light
And bid Christ's heralds speed their flight,