Poem February 21, 1953 ISSUE

THE LOST

Harold Vinal

Who was the lamb that wandered wildIn woodlands, dubious and cold,Who left the meadows, green and mild,Who left the starry foldTo wander 'neath an alien sky?Lo, gentle Father, it was I.

The kindly shepherd left the flock,The ninety and nine, to gatherMe back to graze by field and rock,Led me through foulest weather,So that I did not fall nor die.Lo, gentle Father, it was I.

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