The Lost Sheep (Gates)

How ma­ny sheep are stray­ing

Lost from the Sav­ior’s fold!

Upon those lone­ly mount­ains

They shi­ver in the cold;

Within the tan­gled thick­et

Where poi­son vines do creep

And ov­er roc­ky ledg­es

Wander the poor lost sheep.

Oh

who will go to find them

Who

for the Sav­ior’s sake

Will search with tire­less pa­tience

Thro’ bri­er and thro’ brake?

Unheeding thirst and hun­ger

Who still from day to day

Will seek as for a trea­sure

The sheep that go as­tray?

Oh

who will seek to find them

From plea­sant bow­ers of ease?

Will you go forth de­ter­mined

To find the least of these?

For still the Sav­ior calls them

And looks across the wold

And still He holds wide op­en

The door in­to His fold.