DESCRIPTION:
O long is the night I have traveled. O it was so bitter and cold. I long for the day when my shepherd will say, the black sheep returned to the fold.

Whatever my dreams are of Heaven, a city more precious than gold, the church bells will ring and the angels will sing, the black sheep returned to the fold.

My mission on earth now is ended. My body is weary and cold. The words how in blest in this haven of rest, the black sheep returned to the fold.

So, bury me there in the church yard. The story of life has been told. And let it be known by the words on the stone, the black sheep returned to the fold.