Saviour, Who Thy Flock Art Feeding
With The Shepherd’s Kindest Care,
All The Feeble Gently Leading,
While The Lambs Thy Bosom Share.
Now, These Little Ones Receiving,
Fold Them In Thy Gracious Arm;
There, We Know, Thy Word Believing,
Only There Secure From Harm.
Never, From Thy Pasture Roving,
Let Them Be The Lion’s Prey;
Let Thy Tenderness, So Loving,
Keep Them Through Life’s Dangerous Way.
Then Within Thy Fold Eternal
Let Them Find A Resting Place,
Feed In Pastures Ever Vernal,
Drink The Rivers Of Thy Grace.