The Lord Is My Shepherd

The Lord is My Shepherd
1852

“I have seen the shepherds standing amid
the drench of the rain, not taking the flock
out of the storm, but staying with the flock
in the storm”-Extract from sermon by the
Rev William A Quayle, St James’ M E
church, Chicago, III, printed in The Inter Ocean

The Lord is my shepherd I know his voice,
Which tenderly calleth for me:
And whether the pastures are green and fair,
Or whether the pastures are bleak and bear,
The face of the Shepherd
And whether the folding be chilly or warm,
The Shepherd’s own hands shall fend harm

Not always the way is daisy starred,
Or the clear streams crystal now
When I buffet the storm and breast the gale
TILU the sun goes down and the faint stars pelej
Oh, then I am learning to know
The sweetness of truth, the measures of grace,
Which joys in conflict beholding his face

For I know the Shepherd careth for me,
For me, though the cast of his sheep:
And I know that he tenderly leadeth me where
The pasture Is best for me His care
Falls not, though the way be steep
And feeding by streams where rough billows roll,
His peace makes calm in the deeps of my soul

But sometimes, oh! sometimes, my faith grows faint,
Like a bird with a broken wing
I loose my hold on the Shepherd’s plaid,
And the way dark and my heart is sad-
And the wounded bird unded bird will not s sad-
And the weak sheep bleats with hunger and cold
And erica for the sheltering roof of the fold

The Shepherd, oh! tender and kind is be!
Ho leaveth his ninety and nine
And pallently, tenderly waits and calls,
Till the sun has set and the gold daw talls,
And his tenderness stirreth mthe!
And he chiles me not, but stills my alarms
And bears me a space in his own strong arms

And my strength returns and I grow ashamed
Of weakness and unfaith and doubt
And the Shepherd knows; and his tender care
Is refuge and rest, though rugged or fair
The way which his love marka out
And hear his voice, and it whispers “Come!””
And his voies is love and the way feads home
-ANNIE WALL