I was a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd’s voice.
I would not be controlled:
I was a wayward child,
I did not love my home,
I did not love my Father’s voice,
I loved afar to roam.

The Shepherd sought His sheep,
The Father sought His child:
He followed me o’er vale and hill,
O’er desert waste and wild:
He found me nigh to death,
Famished and faint and lone;
He bound me with the chains of love,
He saved the wandering one.

Jesus my Shepherd is:
‘Twas He that loved my soul,
‘Twas He that washed me in His blood,
‘Twas He that made me whole:
‘Twas He that found the lost,
That found the wandering sheep;
‘Twas He that brought me to the fold:
‘Tis He that still doth keep.

No more a wandering sheep,
I love to be controlled;
I love my tender Shepherd’s voice,
I love the peaceful fold:
No more a wayward child,
I seek no more to roam;
I love my heavenly Father’s voice:
I love, I love His home.