The Prodigal Son

I

Afflictions, though they seem severe,
  In mercy oft are sent;
They stopp’d the prodigal’s career,
  And forced him to repent.

II

Although he no relentings felt
  Till he had spent his store,
His stubborn heart began to melt
  When famine pinch’d him sore.

III

“What have I gain’d by sin,” he said,
  “But hunger, shame, and fear?
My father’s house abounds with bread
  While I am starving here.

IV

I’ll go and tell him all I’ve done,
  And fall before his face;
Unworthy to be call’d his son,
  I’ll seek a servant’s place.”

V

His father saw him coming back,
  He saw and ran and smiled,
And threw his arms around the neck
  Of his rebellious child.

VI

“Father, I’ve sinn’d⁠—but O forgive!”
  “I’ve heard enough,” he said;
“Rejoice, my house⁠—my son’s alive
  For whom I mourn’d as dead.

VII

“Now let the fatted calf be slain,
  And spread the news around:
My son was dead, but lives again⁠—
  Was lost, but now is found.

VIII

’Tis thus the Lord his love reveals
  To call poor sinners home;
More than a father’s love he feels.
  And welcomes all that come.