Words: Mary S B. Dana
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 Savior will hear thee;
He on His bosom will bear thee,
O thou who art weary of sin,
O thou who art weary of sin.
He will protect thee forever,
Wipe every falling tear,
He will forsake thee, O never,
Sheltered so tenderly there,
Haste, then, the hours are flying;
Spend not the moments in sighing,
Cease from your sorrow and crying;
The Savior will wipe every tear,
The Savior will wipe every tear.