There were ninety and nine that safely lay

There were ninety and nine that safely lay

In the shelter of the flock

But one was out on the hills away

Far off in the cold and dark;

Away on the mountains wild and bare

Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

“Lord

Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;

Are they not enough for Thee?”

But the Shepherd made answer: “This of Mine

Has wandered away from Me;

And although the road be rough and steep

I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

But none of the ransomed ever knew

How deep were the waters crossed;

Nor how dark was the night which the Lord passed through

Ere He found His sheep that was lost.

Out in the bleak desert He heard its cry—

All bleeding and helpless

and ready to die.

“Lord

whence are those blood-drops all the way

That mark out the mountain’s track?”

“They were shed for one who had gone astray

Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.”

“Lord

whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?”

“They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

And all through the mountains

thunder-riven

And up from the rocky steep

There arose a cry to the gate of heaven

“Rejoice! I have found My sheep!”

And the angels echoed around the throne

“Rejoice

for the Lord brings back His own!”