Poem November 23, 1912 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel.]

ONE FOLD AND SHEPHERD

MAUDE J. SULLIVAN.

O ye who abide in the fold's cheery shelter,
Protected and fed, snug and safe from the cold,
List ye to the sweet loving voice of the shepherd:
"And others I have, which are not of this fold."

Despise not the straying—perhaps in the darkness
And howling of storms they have wandered in vain,
And erring, mistaken, now blindly are striving
To traverse the path to the sheepfold again.

Perchance, O the pity! some hireling shepherd,
Unheeding, uncaring, has led them afar,
Then left them to wander through paths that are thorny,
Where pitfalls and snares of the wilderness are.

Perchance, to some lambkin alone in the darkness,
A voice, seeming sweet in the gloom, sounded near,
Mistaking the shepherd, he sought but to follow,—
Poor, lost little least one, aquiver with fear.

Some time, from the darkness and depths of the fallen,
The least and the greatest shall answer Truth's call,
And know 'tis their shepherd, and gladly will follow
His voice to the fold: "They shall know me"—yes, all.

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