I Met the Good Shepherd

I met the Good Shep­herd

just now on the plain

As home­ward He car­ried His lost one again;

I mar­veled how gent­ly His bur­den He bore;

And as He passed by me

I knelt to ad­ore.

O Shep­herd

Good Shep­herd

Thy wounds they are deep;

The wolves have sore hurt Thee in sav­ing Thy sheep.

Thy rai­ment all ov­er with crim­son is dyed;

And what is this wound they have made in Thy side?

O Shep­herd

Good Shep­herd

and is it for me

This griev­ous af­flict­ion has fall­en on Thee?

Thy wounds make me love Thee

my heart shall be Thine;

With Thee I will jour­ney

my Shep­herd di­vine.