SHEPHERD, with meek brow wreathed with blossoms sweet Who guard'st thy timid flock with tenderest care -- Who guid'st in sunny paths their wandering feet, -- And the young lambs dost in thy bosom bear; -- Who lead'st thy happy flock to pastures fair, And by still waters at the noon of day -- Charming with lute divine the silent air, What time they linger on the verdant way; -- Good Shepherd! might one gentle distant strain Of that immortal melody sink deep Into my heart, and pierce its careless sleep, And melt by powerful love its sevenfold chain -- Oh! then my soul thy voice should know, and flee To mingle with thy flock, and ever follow Thee. |