Jesus makes my heart re­joice,
I’m His sheep, and know His voice;
He’s a shep­herd, kind and gra­cious,
And His pas­tures are de­li­cious;
Constant love to me He shows,
Yea, my ve­ry name He knows.

Trusting His mild staff al­ways,
I go in and out in peace;
He will feed me with trea­sure
Of His grace in rich­est mea­sure;
When athirst to Him I cry,
Living wa­ter He’ll sup­ply.

Should not I for glad­ness leap,
Led by Je­sus as His sheep?
For when these blest days are ov­er,
To the arms of my dear Sav­ior
I shall be con­veyed to rest:
Amen, yea, my lot is blest.