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1 Bless'd Jesus, source of grace divine What soul-refreshing streams are thine! O bring these healing waters nigh, Or we must droop, and fall, and die. 2 No traveller thro' desert lands, ’Midst scorching suns, and burning sands, More needs the current to obtain, Or to enjoy refreshing rain. 3 Our longing souls aloud would sing, Spring up, celestial fountain, spring; To a redundant river flow, And cheer this thirsty land below. 4 May this blest torrent near my side, Thro' all the desert gently glide; Then in Immanuel’s land above, Spread to a sea of joy and love! | The Cyber Hymnal #536 A Selection of Hymns: from the best authors, intended to be an appendix to Dr. Watt's psalms and hymns. (1st Am. ed.) #CCVIII (1792) |