Forlorn, forsaken dusty road,
She forced her feet to tread,
And dabbed a troubled, tear-stained face,
Her heart consumed with dread.
With shoulders hunched beneath a load,
Of sins she often fed,
She lived a life devoid of grace,
'Til hope had all but fled.
This little lamb, though she was lost,
Was by the Shepard sought,
And though the price He paid was great,
With Christ's own blood was bought.
She could not pay the sinner's cost,
And though death was Christ's lot,
He came to serve a painful fate;
Salvation she was brought.
She forced her feet to tread,
And dabbed a troubled, tear-stained face,
Her heart consumed with dread.
With shoulders hunched beneath a load,
Of sins she often fed,
She lived a life devoid of grace,
'Til hope had all but fled.
This little lamb, though she was lost,
Was by the Shepard sought,
And though the price He paid was great,
With Christ's own blood was bought.
She could not pay the sinner's cost,
And though death was Christ's lot,
He came to serve a painful fate;
Salvation she was brought.