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, O thou, who art weary of sin. He will protect thee for ever, Wipe ev'ry 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 Saviour will wipe ev'ry tear.