Return, O Wanderer, to Thy Home

Return

O wan­der­er

to thy home

Thy Fa­ther calls for thee;

No longer now an ex­ile roam

In guilt and mi­se­ry:

Return

re­turn!

Too long the loath­some fields of sin

Thy fruit­less toil have known:

No whole­some bread! no voice of kin!

No home to call thine own!

Return

re­turn!

Thy Fa­ther stands with out­stretched hands

He gave His Son for thee:

Poor soul

from sin’s en­thrall­ing bands

He longs to see thee free.

Return

re­turn!

Arise

stand up and home­ward turn

No long­er dwell apart;

His migh­ty love will nev­er spurn

One hum­ble con­trite heart.

Return

re­turn!

Our Fa­ther’s house is full of bliss

And there is room for all;

He wel­comes with for­giv­ing kiss:

O

hear His lov­ing call!

Return

re­turn!

The feast of joys awaits thee there

The pre­cious robe and ring;

O haste Thy Fa­ther’s gifts to share

O haste His praise to sing:

Return

re­turn!