Hasten, Shepherd, to the mountain,
Haste to gather in Thy flock;
See the lightning’s fiery arrows!
Hear the dreadful thunder shock!
Then out spoke the faithful Shepherd:
Long ago My flock I sought,
And within the fold’s protection
All of mine I safely brought.
Safe tonight, safe tonight,
Sweetly walking in the light;
Sinner, will you come to Jesus,
And be folded safe tonight?
See the storm is drawing nearer;
Rage the winds, the torrents moan;
Is not one still left to perish,
Unprotected, and alone?
And the Shepherd sadly answered,
Counting carefully, I find
Ninety-nine are safely folded—
One, alas! is left behind.
Now the Shepherd climbs the mountain,
While the echoing thunders roar;
While the storm beats thick and blinding,
And the maddened torrents pour.
Hark! what means that voice that whispers,
Sinner, haste to seek the light!
Haste, and let the heav’nly Shepherd
Find His wandering sheep tonight.