1 There were ninety and nine that safely lay
In the shelter of the fold,
But one was out on the hills away,
Far off from the gates of gold--
Away on the mountains wild and bare,
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care,
Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.
2 “Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;
Are they not enough for Thee?â€
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,
I go to the desert to find my sheep.â€
3 But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night the Lord passed thro'
Ere He found His sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert He heard its cry--
Sick and helpless and ready to die;
Sick and helpless and ready to die.
4 “Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way,
That mark out the mountain’s track?â€
“They were shed for one who had gone astray
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.â€
“Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?â€
They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn;
They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.â€
5 And all thro' the mountains, thunder-riv’n,
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a glad cry to the gate of heav’n,
“Rejoice! I have found my sheep!â€
And the angels echoed around the throne,
“Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!
Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!â€