(From the Scotch Gaelic)
Tedious grew the time to me
Within the Courts of Blessing;
My secure felicity,
For folly I forswore;
Vain delusion wrought my woe
Till now, in want distressing,
I go begging to and fro
Upon an alien shore.
In my dear old home of peace,
Around my father's table
Many a servant sits at ease
And eats and drinks his fill;
While within a filthy stall
With loathsome swine I stable,
Sin-defiled and scorned of all
To starve on husk and swill.
Ah, how well I mind me
Of the happy days gone over!
Love was then behind me,
Before me, and around;
Then, light as air, I leapt,
A laughing little rover,
Now dull and heavy-stepped
I pace this desert ground.
Sin with flattering offers came;
Against my Sire rebelling
I yielded my good name
At the Tempter's easy smile;
In fields that were not ours,
Brighter blooming, richer smelling,
I ravished virgin flowers
With a heart full of guile.
'Twas thus an open shame
In the sight of all the Noble,
Yea! a monster I became,
Till my gold ceased to flow,
And my fine fair-weather friends
Turned their backs upon my trouble.
Now an outcast to Earth's ends
Under misery I go.
Yet though bitter my disgrace,
Than every ill severer
Is the thought of the face
Of the Sire for whom I long.
I shall see Him no more
Though to me he now is dearer
Than he ever was, before
I wrought him such wrong.
And yet ere I die
I will journey forth to meet him.
Home I will hie,
For he yet may be won.
For Pardon and Peace
My soul will entreat him,
"Father, have grace
On thy Prodigal Son!"
Could I get near enough
To send him a message--
I keeping far off--
He would not say me nay.
In some little nook
He would find me a living
And let none be driving
His shamed son away.
The Penitent arose,
His scalding tears blinding him;
Hope's ray lit his way
As homeward he pressed.
Afar off his father's
Fond eyes are finding him,
And the old man gathers
His boy to his breast.