Jesus is our shep­herd,
Wiping ev­ery tear;
Folded in His bo­som,
What have we to fear?
Only let us fol­low
Whither He doth lead,
To the thirs­ty de­sert
Or the dewy mead.

Jesus is our shep­herd;
Well we know His voice;
How its gen­tle whis­per
Makes our heart re­joice!
Even when He chid­eth,
Tender is His tone;
None but He shall guide us;
We are His alone.

Jesus is our shep­herd;
For the sheep He bled;
Every lamb is sprink­led
With the blood He shed;
Then on earth He set­teth
His own sec­ret sign;
They that have My Spi­rit,
These, saith He, are Mine.

Jesus is our shep­herd;
Guarded by His arm,
Though the wolves may ra­ven,
None can do us harm;
When we tread death’s val­ley,
Dark with fear­ful gloom,
We will fear no ev­il,
Victors o’er the tomb.