When Some Kind Shepherd from His Fold

When some kind shep­herd from his fold

Has lost a stray­ing sheep

Through vales

o’er hills

he anx­ious roves

And climbs the mount­ains steep.

But O

the joy! the trans­port sweet!

When he the wan­derer finds!

Upon his arms he takes his charge

And to his shoul­der binds.

Homeward he hastes to tell his joys

And make his bliss com­plete;

The neigh­bors hear the news

and all

The joy­ful shep­herd greet.

Such

and much great­er is the joy

When but one sin­ner turns;

When the poor wretch with brok­en heart

His sins and er­ror mourns.

Pleased with the news

the saints be­low

In songs their tongues em­ploy;

Beyond the skies the tid­ings go

And Heav­en is filled with joy.

Well pleased the Fa­ther sees

and hears

The con­scious sin­ner weep;

Jesus re­ceives him in His arms

And owns him for His sheep.

Nor an­gels can their joys con­tain

But kin­dle with new fire;

A wan­der­ing sheep’s re­turned

they sing

And strike the sound­ing lyre.