Shepherd of Souls, with Pitying Eye

Shepherd of souls

with pi­ty­ing eye

The thou­sands of our Is­ra­el see:

To Thee

in their be­half we cry

Ourselves but new­ly found in Thee.

See

where o’er de­sert wastes they err

And nei­ther food nor feed­er have

Nor fold

nor place of re­fuge near;

For no man cares their souls to save.

Thy peo­ple

Lord

are sold for naught

Nor know they their Re­deem­er nigh;

They per­ish

whom Thy­self hast bought;

Their souls for lack of know­ledge die.

The pit its mouth hath op­ened wide

To swal­low up its care­less prey;

Why should they die

when Thou hast died

Hast died to bear their sins away?

Why should the foe Thy pur­chase seize?

Remember

Lord

Thy dy­ing groans:

The meed of all Thy suf­fer­ings these;

O claim them for Thy ran­somed ones!

Extend to these Thy par­don­ing grace;

To these be Thy sal­va­tion showed:

O add them to Thy chos­en race!

O sprin­kle all their hearts with blood!

Still let the pub­li­cans draw near:

Open the door of faith and Heav­en;

And grant their hearts Thy word to hear

And wit­ness all their sins for­giv­en.