Jesus, bless thy little lamb,
Weak and foolish as I am;
Bear me in Thy mighty arm
Safe from every fear and harm.
Thou did’st call me to Thy side,
Trembling in the desert wide;
Bad’st me all my bleatings cease,
Hushed my fears, and gave me peace.
Lord, Thou art my Shepherd kind;
All I need in Thee I find;
But I fear my silly heart,
Lest I should from Thee depart.
Call me nearer, then, I cry,
Let me in Thy bosom lie;
Turn these wandering eyes, I pray,
From each vanity away.
Teach me what that sorrow meant,
When those cries to heaven were sent;
When in blood and tears and grief,
Thou did’st call—but no relief.
Let my childish follies be
Drowned in that deep agony;
Let Thy death, Thy wounds, Thy woe,
Make me all sin’s vileness know.
And when’er in folly’s way,
Thy poor lamb begins to stray,
May Thy dying love and pain
Turn my heart to Thee again.
ML 07/27/1941