The Lost Sheep (Crosby)

From the hun­dred sheep which the Shep­herd’s care

Had pro­tect­ed ma­ny a day

There was one went forth

and its rest­less feet

In the de­sert wan­dered away.

Then the Shep­herd’s heart was grieved

And He kind­ly said:

On the mount­ain it will lang­uish and pine.

I will go and search for the sheep I lost

I will leave the nine­ty and nine.

There was joy

great joy in the Shep­herd’s fold

When His long

long jour­ney was o’er

And the poor lost sheep that had gone as­tray

In His arms He ten­derly bore;

Then the She­pherd’s heart was glad

And He said to all:

What a mo­ment of re­joic­ing is Mine!

For I love My sheep that I lost and found

More than all the nine­ty and nine.

Oh

that Shep­herd kind is the Son of God

Who has borne our sor­row and care;

It was He who said

There is joy in Heav’n

O’er the wan­d’rer’s pe­ni­tent pray­er;

To the soul He bring­eth back

To His fold of grace

To His pre­cious fold of mer­cy di­vine

How His heart goes out

for He loves that one

More than all the nine­ty and nine.