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.

2. . Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine.
Are they not enough for thee?
But the Shepherd made answer: ’Tis of mine
Has wandered away from me.
And although the road be rough and steep,
I go to the desert to find my sheep.

3. . But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed,
Nor how dark was the night the Lord pass’d
Ere he found his sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert he heard its cry—
Sick and helpless and ready to die.

4. . “Lord, what are these blood drops all the way
That mark out the mountain’s track?”
“They were shed for the one who’d gone astray
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.
“Lord, why are these hands so rent and torn?”
“They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

5. . But all thru’ the mountains, thunder-riv’n,
And up from the rocky steep,
There rose such a cry to the gate of Heav’n,
“Rejoice, I have found my sheep!”
And the angels echoed around the throne,
“Rejoice, for the Lord brings back his own!”