Elizabeth Cecelia Clephane, 1868
There were ninety and nine that safely lay|
In the shelter of the fold.
But one was out on the hills far 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;
3. But none of the ransomed ever knew|
How deep were the waters crossed;
Nor how dark was the night the Lord passed through
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, whence are those blood drops all the way
5. But all through the mountains, thunder riven|
And up from the rocky steep,
There arose a glad cry to the gate of heaven,
Rejoice! I have found My sheep!
And the angels echoed around the throne,
|: Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own! :|
While traveling in Scotland, Ira Sankey clipped out a poem from a paper and put it in his pocket. Later, he was asked to sing a hymn of praise following a sermon. He recalled the poem, went to the organ and played the A-flat chord and composed the hymn as he sang.
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