Behold the Wretch Whose Lust and Wine

Behold the wretch whose lust and wine

Had wast­ed his es­tate

He begs a share among the swine

To taste the husks they eat!

I die with hun­ger here

he cries

“I starve in fo­reign lands;

My fa­ther’s house has large sup­plies

And boun­te­ous are his hands.

I’ll go

and with a mourn­ful tongue

Fall down be­fore his face—

Father

I’ve done thy jus­tice wrong

Nor can de­serve thy grace.

He said

and haste­ned to his home

To seek his fa­ther’s love;

The fa­ther saw the re­bel come

And all his bow­els move.

He ran

and fell up­on his neck

Embraced and kissed his son;

The re­bel’s heart with sor­row brake

For fol­lies he had done.

Take off his clothes of shame and sin

The fa­ther gives com­mand

“Dress him in gar­ments white and clean

With rings adorn his hand.

A day of feast­ing I or­dain

Let mirth and joy abound;

My son was dead

and lives again

Was lost

and now is found.