Oh, lovely lambs, beware
How you despise my care,
And quit the happy meads
To which your Shepherd leads;
I will protect you night and day,
Then never from your Shepherd stray.
My little lambs, like you,
I have a Shepherd too,
Who keeps me in his fold—
Whose love can ne’er be told—
Who guides me by his crook and rod—
My Shepherd is—my Saviour God.
W. I think, Sir, I know what you mean. It is prettier than our song; and what it tells us is of great consequence: it is very different from what I expected.
J. Sir, it is prettier than any song I ever heard; I like the last verse very much indeed.
G. Do you really like that verse the best?
J. Yes, Sir; it is about our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the Son of God: he is the best of shepherds.
G. Certainly he is: but if you really think so, you will like to sing about him, instead of the common foolish songs. Those who love Christ will delight to sing to his praise and glory.
W. Jane, I have made up my mind; we will not learn any more of cousin Sally’s foolish songs; at least I will not.
J. Nor I.