1 Saviour! who thy flock art feeding,
With the shepherd's prudent care,
All the feeble gently leading,
While the lambs thy bosom share;
Now these little ones receiving,
Fold them in thy gracious arms.
There we know--thy--word believing--
Only there secure from harm.
2 Never from thy pasture roving,
Let them be the lion's prey;
Let thy tenderness, so loving,
Keep them all 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.