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1. There is a little lonely fold, Whose flock one Shepherd keeps, Through summer’s heat and winter’s cold, With eye that never sleeps. 2. By evil beast, or burning sky, Or damp of midnight air, Not one in all that flock shall die Beneath that Shepherd’s care. 3. For if, unheeding or beguiled, In danger’s path they roam, His pity follows through the wild And guards them safely home. 4. O gentle Shepherd, still behold Thy helpless charge in me; And take a wanderer to Thy fold That trembling turns to Thee. | The Cyber Hymnal #6752 |