The Ninety-Nine Within The Fold
Are Safe From Fears And Storms Of Night,
But One Is On The Mountains Cold,
’Twill Perish There—How Sad The Sight!

Go Search It Out And Bring It Home,
No More In Darkness Let It Roam;
You’ll Find It There In Dreadful Plight,
Oh! Go And Bring It Back Tonight.

The Ninety-Nine Are Safe Today,
They’re All At Home, So Fully Blest,
But One Is Wandering Far Away,
Upon The Mountain’s Snowy Crest.

The Ninety-Nine With Care Are Fed,
And Rest Within The Shepherd’s Fold;
But One Is Starving, Nearly Dead,
Upon The Mountains Bare And Cold.

The Shepherd Dear, Aloud Doth Weep
Because One Lamb Afar Doth Roam;
The Ninety-Nine He’ll Safely Keep—
We’ll Seek That Lamb And Bring It Home.

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