Flee as a bird to your mountain,
Thou who art weary of sin;
Go to the clear-flowing fountain,
Where you may wash and be clean;
Fly, for th’avenger is near thee,
Call, and the Saviour will hear thee,
He on His bosom will bear thee;
Oh, thou who art weary of sin,
Oh, thou who art weary of sin.
He will protect thee forever,
Wipe every falling tear;
He will forsake thee, oh, never,
Sheltered so tenderly there!
Haste, then, the hours are flying,
Spend not the moments in sighing,
Cease from you sorrow and crying,
The Saviour will wipe ev’ry tear,
The Saviour will wipe ev’ry tear.
Mary S.B. Dan/Spanish