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1 Thou whom my Soul admires above
All earthly joys and earthly Love,
Tell me, dear Shepherd, let me know
Where doth thy sweetest Pasture grow?
2 Where is the Shadow of that Rock,
That from the Sun defends thy Flock?
Fain would I feed among thy Sheep,
Among them rest, among them sleep.
3 Why should thy Bride appear like one
That turns aside to Paths unknown?
My constant Feet would never rove,
Would never seek another Love.
4 The Footsteps of thy Flock I see;
Thy sweetest Pastures here they be;
A wondrous Feast thy Love prepares,
Bought with thy Wounds, and Groans & Tears.
5 His dearest Flesh He makes my Food,
And bids me drink his richest Blood:
Here to these Hills my Soul will come,
Till my Beloved lead me home.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Thou whom my Soul admires above |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1760 |
Scripture: |