403 Wilt Thou not, my Shepherd true,

1 Wilt Thou not, my Shepherd true, Spare Thy sheep, in mercy spare me? Wilt Thou not, as shepherds do, In Thine arms rejoicing bear me, Bear me where all troubles cease, Home to folds of joy and peace? 2 With Thy flock I long to be, With the flock to whom 'tis given Safe to feed, and, praising Thee, Roam the happy plains of heaven: Free from fear of sinful stain, They can never stray again. 3 Lord! I here am sore beset, Fears at every step confound me; Lo! my foes have spread their net, And with craft and might surround me: Such their snares on every side, Safe Thy sheep can ne'er abide. 4 See, on earth's wide desert way How my truant steps mislead me; Bring me back, no more to stray, In Thine own green pastures feed me. Gather me within the fold, Where Thy lambs Thy light behold.