CCVIII. CHRIST'S little Flock comforted with the Views of a Kingdom.

YE little Flock, whom Jesus feeds,
Dismiss your anxious Cares;
Look to the Shepherd of your Souls,
And smile away your Fears.

Tho' Wolves and Lions prowl around,
His Staff is your Defence:
'Midst Sands and Rocks your Shepherd's Voice
Calls Streams and Pastures thence.

Your Father will a Kingdom give,
And give it with Delight;
His feeblest Child his Love shall call
To triumph in his Sight.

Ten thousand Praises, LORD, we bring
For sure Supports like these:
And o'er the pious Dead we sing
Thy living Promises.

For all we hope, and they enjoy,
We bless a Saviour's Name;
Nor shall that Stroke disturb the Song,
Which breaks this mortal Frame.