Gentle Shepherd, Thou Hast Stilled

Gentle Shep­herd

Thou hast stilled

Now Thy lit­tle lamb’s brief weep­ing;

Ah

how peace­ful

pale and mild

In its nar­row bed ’tis sleep­ing

And no sigh of ang­uish sore

Heaves that lit­tle bo­som more.

In this world of care and pain

Lord

Thou wouldst no long­er leave it;

To the sun­ny

heav­en­ly plain

Thou dost now with joy re­ceive it;

Clothed in robes of spot­less white

Now it dwells with Thee in light.

Ah

Lord Je­sus

grant that we

Where it lives may soon be liv­ing

And the love­ly pas­tures see

That its heav­en­ly food are giv­ing;

Then the gain of death we prove

Though Thou take what most we love.