My Soul, with Joy Attend

My soul

with joy at­tend

While Je­sus si­lence breaks;

No an­gel’s harp such mu­sic yields

As what my Shep­herd speaks.

I know My sheep

He cries

‟My soul ap­proves them well;

Vain is the trea­cher­ous world’s dis­guise

And vain the rage of hell.

I free­ly feed them now

With to­kens of My love

But rich­er pas­tures I pre­pare

And sweet­er streams above.

Unnumbered years of bliss

I to My sheep will give;

And

while My throne un­shak­en stands

Shall all My chos­en live.

This tried al­migh­ty hand

Is raised for their de­fense:

Where is the pow­er shall reach them there?

Or what shall force them thence?

Enough

my gra­cious Lord

Let faith tri­umph­ant cry;

My heart can on this pro­mise live

Can on this pro­mise die.