I was a wandering 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; They followed me o'er vale and hill, O'er deserts waste and wild. They found me nigh to death, Famished and faint and lone; They bound me with the bands of love, They saved the wandering one! Jesus my Shepherd is, 'Twas He that loved my soul; 'Twas He that washed me in His blood, 'Twas He that made me whole. 'Twas He that sought the lost, That found the wandering sheep; 'Twas He that brought me to the fold, 'Tis He that still doth keep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A PRIZE BIRD by MARIANNE MOORE THE LAMB, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE AT CASTLE WOOD by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE HOUSE ON THE HILL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TURNED OUT FOR RENT by M. L. S. BURKE FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: TO JOHN MOUNSON, SON AND HEIR TO SIR THOMAS by THOMAS CAMPION |