THE LOST LAMB
tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899
156 Like a little wandering lamb Lost upon the hills I am; Like a shepherd Jesus stands, Holding out His blessed Hands. | “Come,” He says, “come back to Me; Little lamb, I died for thee; I will take thee to My home, Little lamb, I pray thee come. | “Thou wouldst like to have thy way, On the lonely hills to stray, Where the hungry lion hides, Where the fiery serpent glides. | “I would have thee lie at rest, Little lamb, upon My breast; Thou shalt be My sweet delight All the day and all the night. | “Though thou hast a wayward will, Little lamb, I love thee still; Come to Me and be forgiven, I will bear thee safe to Heaven.” | |