Christ, who once among us as a child did dwell,
Is the child­ren’s Sav­ior, and He loves us well;
If we keep our pro­mise made Him at the font,
He will be our shep­herd, and we shall not want.

There it was they laid us in those ten­der arms,
Where the lambs are car­ried safe from all al­arms;
If we trust His pro­mise, He will let us rest
In His arms for­ev­er, lean­ing on His breast.

Though we may not see Him for a lit­tle while,
We shall know He holds us, oft­en feel His smile;
Death will be to slum­ber, in that sweet em­brace,
And we shall awak­en to be­hold His face.

He will be our shep­herd af­ter as be­fore,
By still hea­ven­ly wa­ters lead us ev­er­more,
Make us lie in pas­tures beau­ti­ful and green,
Where none thirst or hun­ger,
And no tears are seen.

Jesus, our good shep­herd, lay­ing down Thy life,
Lest Thy sheep should per­ish in the cru­el strife,
Help us to re­mem­ber all Thy love and care,
Trust in Thee, and love Thee
Always, ev­ery­where.