SHEPHERD! Thou, with thy loving wild song

hast broken the sleep that enshrouded me,

who madest thy staff out of the accursed tree

over which thy mighty arms were so long outstretched.

Lead me to the ever-flowing fountains of mercy;

for thou wilt be my shepherd, and guardian, and guide;

I will obey thy voice, and wait to see

thy fair feet upon the mountains.


Hear, Shepherd, Thou who for thy flock art dying,

Oh, wash away these scarlet sins, for thou

rejoicest in the vow of the contrite sinner.

Oh, wait! My weary soul cries to thee,

wait for me: but why dost thou ask, when I see that,

with thy feet nailed to the cross, thou art still waiting for me!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Diógenes de Sinope.