2 Bring down the proud mountain, though towering to heaven,
And be the low valley exalted on high;

The rough path and crooked be made smooth and even,
He cometh! our King, our Redeemer is nigh.

3 The beams of salvation his progress illume,

The lone, dreary wilderness sings of her God;
The rose and the myrtle there suddenly bloom,
And the olive of peace spreads its branches abroad.
Rev. William H. Drummond, 1772