1 Companions of thy little flock,
Dear Lord, we fain would be;
Our helpless hearts to thee look up,
To thee, our Shepherd flee.
2 O might we lean upon the breast,
Which love and pity fill,
And now become those lambs carest,
That in thy bosom dwell.
3 How sweet that voice, how sweet that hand
Which leads to pastures fair,
Shews Cana'n's milk and honey land,
Lot of thy flock so dear.
4 Rich grace, free grace, most sweetly call,
Directly come who will,
Just as you are; for Christ receives
Poor helpless sinners still.
5 'Tis grace each day that feeds our souls;
Grace keeps us only pure;
And O! that nothing else but grace
May rule for evermore.
6 As one in heart, let's all rejoice
The sinner's friend to praise;
The Shepherd died; Oh! 'tis his voice;
He'll us to glory raise.
Source: Divine Hymns or Spiritual Songs, for the use of religious assemblies and private Christians: being a collection #CXXXII