On Judah’s Hills a Lowly Band

On Ju­dah’s hills a low­ly band

Their flocks in safe­ty kept:

Their folds they penned with care­ful hand

And watched while oth­ers slept.

No help­less sheep was seen to stray

No ra­ven­ing wolf was nigh;

Their flee­cy charge se­cure­ly lay

Beneath the span­gled sky.

And were not these a faith­ful few

Of Ab­raham’s stock in­deed

Who longed

with faith­ful hearts and true

For Da­vid’s pro­mised seed?

Their thoughts

per­chance

were fixed on One

Whom pro­phets had fore­told;

Him

who should bring each wan­der­ing son

Within the Shep­herd’s fold;

The Lord

who loves His flock to feed

To guard from strange alarms

In ten­der grass His lambs to lead

Or bear them in His arms:

Who calls His sheep

that know His voice

To seek with one ac­cord

The liv­ing wa­ters that re­joice

The ci­ty of the Lord.

O hap­py shep­herds! blest were they

When from the Fa­ther’s throne

Angelic hosts in bright ar­ray

Brought news of mer­cy down.

Thus first to men of hum­ble birth

Were told the won­drous things

Which bowed the id­ols of the earth

And checked the pride of kings.

In dai­ly duty’s con­stant round

And works of trust and care

Thus

like the shep­herds

faith­ful found

May we their bless­ing share.