I was a wandering sheep, I did not love the fold; I did not love my Shepherd's voice, I would not be controlled. I was a wayward child, I did not love my home; I did not love my Father's voice, I loved afar to roam. The Shepherd sought His sheep, The Father sought His child; They followed me o'er vale and hill, O'er deserts waste and wild. They found me nigh to death, Famished and faint and lone; They bound me with the bands of love, They saved the wandering one! Jesus my Shepherd is, 'Twas He that loved my soul; 'Twas He that washed me in His blood, 'Twas He that made me whole. 'Twas He that sought the lost, That found the wandering sheep; 'Twas He that brought me to the fold, 'Tis He that still doth keep. |