Hymn CCXLVII. Long Metre. Seeking Christ the Shepherd

Thou whom my soul admires above All earthly joys and earthly love; Tell me, my shepherd, let me know Where doth thy sweetest pasture grow?

Where is the shadow of that rock, Which from the sun defends thy flock! Fain would I feed among thy sheep, Among them rest, among them sleep.

The footsteps of thy flock I see, Thy sweetest pastures here they be! A wond'rous feast thy love prepares Bought by thy wounds and groans and tears.

His sacred flesh he makes my food, And bids me drink his precious blood. Here to this feast my soul will come, Till my beloved, lead me home.