And I’ve read the sweet story of Jesus, and expect to read it again,
I’ve read of the Good Samaritan, of charity’s lesson begun,
And my heart goes out in great pity to the wayward, prodigal son.
All are so glad to welcome him, so quick to forget and forgive,
It makes no difference what he has done, if only comes back to live;
They have always prayed for the prodigal boy since ever the world begun,
The joy, the glory, forgiveness of the returning wayward son,
But poets seem to forget to write of the saddest thing in the world—
They are not so eager to welcome back the poor little prodigal girl.
Just why she has turned out crooked—she happened to strike “the right one,”