To praise our Shepherd’s care,
His wisdom, love, and might,
Your loudest, loftiest songs prepare,
And bid the world unite.

Supremely good and great,
He tends His blood-bought fold;
He stoops, though throned in highest state,
The feeblest to uphold.

He hears their softest plaint;
He sees them when they roam;
And if His meanest lamb should faint,
His bosom bears it home.

Kind Shepherd of the sheep!
A weary flock are we;
And snares and foes are nigh; but keep
The lambs who look to Thee.

And if through death’s dark vale
Our feet should early tread,
Oh, may we reach Thy fold, and hail
The love which us hath led!