Come, wand’ring sheep, oh, come!
I’ll bind thee to my breast,
I’ll bear thee to my home,
And lay thee down to rest.

I saw thee stray forlorn,
And heard thee faintly cry,
And on the tree of scorn,
For thee I deign to die.

I shield thee from alarms,
And wilt thou not be blest?
I bear thee in my arms;
Thou bear me in thy breast.

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