I met the Good Shepherd, just now on the plain, As homeward He carried His lost one again; I marveled how gently His burden He bore; And as He passed by me, I knelt to adore. O Shepherd, Good Shepherd, Thy wounds they are deep; The wolves have sore hurt Thee in saving Thy sheep. Thy raiment all over with crimson is dyed; And what is this wound they have made in Thy side? O Shepherd, Good Shepherd, and is it for me This grievous affliction has fallen on Thee? Thy wounds make me love Thee, my heart shall be Thine; With Thee I will journey, my Shepherd divine.
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