THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN
(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, [120] 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. |