Those millions just over the sea, my friend, For ages have wandered in night, Still worshiping heathenish man-made gods, Held captive in sin's awful blight. To idols of metal, of wood and stone, They daily are bowing the knee; For that is the way they've been taught, you know, Those millions just over the sea. Those millions just over the sea, my friend, Are calling from many a shore; We hear them from Europe and Egypt's climes, Australia and India's door. Japan and dark China repeat the call, The islands re-echo the plea; O brother and sister make haste to save Those millions just over the sea. Those millions just over the sea, my friend, “Come over and help us.” they say; Then rush to the rescue, lest heathen blood Thy garments shall mar on that day. When Jesus shall summons these nations up, To judgement with you and with me, To give an account of the love we showed Those millions just over the sea.