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John Brownlie


I wandered sore distressed,

All weary and forlorn;

I had no place to rest,

Of all my pleasures shorn--

My thirsting spirit sighed,

And in the desert cried.

The Shepherd heard my cry,

Who came His flock to find,

And drew in mercy nigh,

For He is wondrous kind;

His winning voice awoke

My spirit as He spoke.

He bade my wandering cease,

And gave my heart a home,

That, from the bliss of peace,

I might no longer roam;

He gave me hope for fears,

And lasting joy for tears.

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