| |
| NOT always, Lord, in pastures green | |
| The sheep at noon Thou feedest, | |
| Where in the shade they lie | |
| Within Thy watchful eye: | |
| Not always under skies serene | 5 |
| The white-fleeced flock Thou leadest. | |
| |
| On rugged ways, with bleeding feet, | |
| They leave their painful traces; | |
| Through deserts drear they go, | |
| Where wounding briers grow, | 10 |
| And through dark valleys, where they meet | |
| No quiet resting-places. | |
| |
| Not always by the waters still, | |
| Or lonely wells palm-hidden, | |
| Do they find happy rest, | 15 |
| And, in Thy presence blest, | |
| Delight themselves, and drink their fill | |
| Of pleasures unforbidden. | |
| |
| Their track is worn on Sorrow’s shore, | |
| Where windy storms beat ever— | 20 |
| Their troubled course they keep, | |
| Where deep calls unto deep; | |
| So going till they hear the roar | |
| Of the dark-flowing river. | |
| |
| But wheresoe’er their steps may be, | 25 |
| So Thou their path be guiding, | |
| O be their portion mine! | |
| Show me the secret sign, | |
| That I may trace their way to Thee, | |
| In Thee find rest abiding. | 30 |
| |
| Slowly they gather to the fold, | |
| Upon Thy holy mountain,— | |
| There, resting round Thy feet, | |
| They dread no storm nor heat, | |
| And slake their thirst where Thou hast rolled | 35 |
| The stone from Life’s full fountain. | |
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