|Chief Shepherd of Thy chosen sheep,|
from death and sin set free;
may ev'ry undershepherd keep
his eye, intent on Thee!
|With plenteous grace their hearts prepare,|
to execute Thy will;
compassion, patience, love and care,
and faithfulness and skill.
|Enflame their minds with holy zeal|
their flocks to feed and teach;
and let them live, and let them feel
the sacred truths they preach.
|Oh, never let the sheep complain|
that toys, which fools amuse;
ambition, pleasure, praise or gain,
debase the shepherd's views.
|He, that for these, forbears to feed|
the souls whom Jesus loves;
whate'er he may process, or plead,
an idolshepherd proves.
|The sword of God shall break his arm,|
a blast shall blind his eye;
his word shall have no pow'r to warm,
his gifts shall all grow dry.
|O Lord, avert this heavy woe,|
let all Thy shepherds say!
and grace, and strength, on each bestow,
to labour while 'tis day.