"This do remember Me!"
O blessed, living Lord,
What depths of grace we now can trace
In that most precious word!
When darker grew Thy path,
When over Thee loomed the cross,
With nought down here Thy heart to cheer,
Thou didst remember us!

"This do remember Me!"
The sword about to wake,
Thy sweat as blood upon Thee stood
When Thou the cup didst take!
There on the altar bound
Wast Thou that night of woe,
When man’s dark hour and Satan’s power
Their deepest gloom did throw!

"This do remember Me!"
O deep desire of love,
As round Thy soul those waves did roll
The wrath of God above!
Made sin upon the tree,
What blackness vailed the sky
What torrents, dread, bowed low Thy head
As Thou for us didst die!

"This do remember Me!"
O what a savor sweet,
For God above-for man, what love
In all Thy work complete!
Now gathered round Thyself,
With heart and conscience free,
O Lord, once dead, our living Head,
We do remember Thee!

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 bands 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 sought 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!