The Song of the Lamb
I hear many voices say “I am the Shepherd, come to me!”
But, I know they’re all just thieves, my Shepherd they can’t be.
The voice of my Shepherd is soft and gentle,
The voice of my Shepherd is kind and meek.
His steps I know when He’s close by the lintel,
He’s the Door of my pen, the rest are thieves.
My Shepherd leads me on mountains and valleys,
My Shepherd leads me to pastures green.
My Shepherd is my one and only
In whose arms I’d always want to lean.
The wolf had pounced one day from the thickets,
The hirelings all fled fearing for their lives;
My Shepherd ran t’wards me to save me,
He fought the wolf counting not His life.
My Shepherd loves me, and I am wordless!
My Shepherd calls me, and I know His voice!