1 Down in the valley among the sweet grasses,
Walks my Beloved,—his footprints I see;
Haste I to follow him, Saviour and Lover,
How the winds whisper thy dear name to me.

2 Know’st thou I seek thee? O haste to discover
The place of thy sheltered and fragrant retreat,
Where thou dost rest with thy flocks at the noontide,
By fountains of water, unsearched by the heat.

3 Now I approach thee, O fairest Redeemer!
Lured by thy beauty to dwell in thy love;
Hide not thy face from the heart that adores thee;
Have I not sought thee, and found thee, my “Dove”!

4 Gentler thy voice than the whisper of angels,—
Brighter thy smile than the sun in the sky;
Gather me tenderly, close to thy bosom,
Faint with thy loveliness—there let me die.