Classic Poem

And has the thirsty Ground of late
Been parch'd for want of Rain?
Has now the Lord with fruitful Showers
Refresh'd the Earth again?

And is my thirsty Soul grown dry,
For want of heav'nly Dew?
Lord, with thy gracious influence come,
This Blessing sweet renew.

Quick then, dear Lord, appear to me,
And warm this frozen Heart;
Thy Promise thou wilt never leave,
Altho' thou may'st depart.

I cannot bear thy absence, Lord,
Tho' burthen'd with this Clay;
Be like the youthful Hart or Roe,
O'er Mountains, come away!

Mountains of Sin and Unbelief
Before the Lord shall flee;
Oh! cast them all into the deep,
And found they shall not be.