C.M.
1
There is a little, lonely fold,
A fold the Shepherd keeps,
Through summer’s heat and winter’s cold,
With eye that never sleeps.
2
By evil beast, nor burning sky,
Nor damp of midnight air,
Not one in all that flock shall die,
Beneath that Shepherd’s care.
3
For if, unheeding or beguiled,
In danger’s path they roam,
His pity follows through the wild,
And guards them safely home.
4
O am I one in this blest fold,
Or do I wander wide?
The Lord my heart can now behold,
I cannot from Him hide.
