I was a wand’ring sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd’s voice,
I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child,
I did not love my home;
I did not love my Father’s voice
I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought His sheep,
The Father sought His child,
And followed me o’er vale and hill,
O’er desert waste and wild.
Yea, found me nigh to death,
Famished, and faint, and lone.
And bound me with the bands of love,
And saved the wand’ring one.

Jesus my Shepherd is,
‘Twas He that loved my soul,
‘Twas He that cleansed me by His blood,
‘Twas He that made me whole.
‘Twas He that sought the lost,
That found the wand’ring sheep;
‘Twas He that brought me to the fold,
‘Tis He that still doth keep.

No more a wand’ring sheep
I love to be controlled.
I love my tender Shepherd’s voice,
I love the peaceful fold.
No more a wayward child
I seek no more to roam;
I love my heav’nly Father’s voice,
I love, I love His home.



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