Scripture Verse

The Son of Man is come to save that which was lost. Matthew 18:11


Henry L. Gilmour (1836–1920)

Words: Hen­ry L. Gil­mour, in Songs of Joy and Glad­ness, by John R. Swe­ney, Will­iam J. Kirk­pat­rick et al. (Bos­ton, Mas­sa­chu­setts: Mc­Don­ald & Gill, 1885), num­ber 221.

Music: Kis­sim­mee Hen­ry L. Gil­mour, 1885 (🔊 pdf nwc).

During one of the se­vere snow­storms that vis­it­ed Co­lo­ra­do, a young man per­ished in sight of home. In his be­wil­der­ment he passed and re-passed his own cot­tage, to lie down and die al­most in range with the light in the win­dow which his young wife had placed there to guide him home.

All alone she watched the long night through, list­en­ing in vain for the foot­steps that would come no more; for long be­fore the morn­ing dawned the icy touch of death had stilled that warm, lov­ing heart. The sad death was made still sad­der by the fact that he was lost in sight of home.

How ma­ny wan­der­ers from the Fa­ther’s house are lost in sight of home, in the full glare of the Go­spel light! They have the open Bi­ble, ov­er­flow­ing with its calls and pro­mis­es, the faith­ful warn­ings from the sac­red desk, the ma­ni­fes­ta­tions of God’s pro­vi­dence, all tend­ing to di­rect their foot­steps hea­ven­ward; and yet from all these they turn away, wait­ing for the more con­ven­ient sea­son, and are lost, at last, in sight of the ma­ny man­sions.

Henry Gil­mour


Lost in sight of home, where loved ones
Watch the wea­ry hours in vain,
Longing for fa­mil­iar foot­steps
That seem not to come again.


Haste, O haste! a Sav­ior’s call­ing
Through the dark­ened mist of sin;
See, the Gos­pel light still flash­es,
And in­vites the wan­der­er in.

Lost in sight of home, where mo­ther
Fondly gazed up­on her boy,
While with up­turned eyes he’d re­vel
In her glee­ful songs of joy.


Lost in sight of home, where Fa­ther
Waits to meet His way­ward child;
Longs to wel­come back and par­don,
Longs to see Him re­con­ciled.


Lost in sight of home, where bro­ther’s
Last good-bye still lin­gers dear;
And that sis­ter’s kiss at part­ing
Brings to mind the fall­ing tear.


Lost to ma­ny a friend and loved one,
Watching now in Hea­ven’s bright dome;
Lost while Je­sus waits to wel­come,
Lost, and lost in sight of home.