The Foot-steps of the Flock

TEll me, O thou beloved One,
Where thou thy Flock dost feed?
On thee we do depend alone,
That thou our Souls mayst lead

Into rich Pastures fresh and green,
Where we do comfort find,
Which doth content our precious Souls,
And stay our fainting mind.

Thou sendst us to the first Foot-steps
Of thy dear Flock of old,
There for to feed, and to lye down
In thy own blessed Fold;

Where rest we may under thy shade
With much delight and peace,
Where streams of joy most sweetly flow,
Which run and never cease.

Thou hast o'recome us with thy Love,
We can't but must love thee;
And being drawn, Lord, from above,
We run continually.

Therefore we sing unto thy Name,
And lift thy praise on high;
And for thy sake bear any shame,
And will not thee deny.

If we do find we do love thee,
And thou dost Love return,
We'll never cease to raise thy praise
Until our lives are done.