Missing

Late at night I saw the Shep­herd

Toiling slow along the hill

Though the flock be­low were ga­thered

In the fold so warm and still;

On His face I saw the ang­uish

In His locks the drops of night

As He searched the mis­ty val­leys

As He climbed the fros­ty heights.

Just one ten­der lamb was miss­ing

When He called them all by name;

While the oth­ers heard and fol­lowed

This one

on­ly

nev­er came.

Oft His voice rang thro’ the dark­ness

Of that long

long night of pain

Oft He vain­ly paused to list­en

For an an­swer­ing tone again.

Far away the tru­ant sleep­ing

By the chasm of des­pair;

Lay un­con­scious of its dan­ger

Shivering in the mount­ain air.

But at last the Shep­herd found it

Found it ere in sleep it died

Took it in His lov­ing bo­som

And His soul was sa­tis­fied.