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Savior, who thy flock art feeding
with the Shepherd's kindest care,
all the feeble gently leading,
while the lambs thy bosom share:
Now, these little ones receiving,
fold them in thy gracious arm;
there, we know, thy word believing,
only there, secure from heaven.
Never, from thy pasture roving,
let them be the lion's prey;
let thy tenderness so loving
keep them through life's dangerous way.
Then within thy fold eternal
let them find a resting-place;
feed in pastures ever vernal,
drink the rivers of thy grace.