p. 140 | THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN by Mary Lowe Dickinson

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Mar 25, 1880

THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN.

By Mary Lowe Dickinson

Back to thy feet, O my Father! Wearied, and stricken, and sore, Dragging a heavier burden Than ever a prodigal bore; Coming, with worn feet that falter, Hands that are crimsoned with stain, And a heart that can lay on thine altar Only its sin and its pain.

I changed the white robes of Thy favor For garments all tattered and soiled; The fields where thou badest me labor The weeds and the foxes have spoiled. I turned from the fruits of thy vineyard, To feed on the husks with the swine, And left the pure springs of Thy mercy, For cups of the rioter's wine.

And now to Thy feet I am coming, Saddened, ashamed, and defiled, And I ask for the bread of a servant; —Not worthy the name of a child. I wait, in the dust, for Thy greeting, If it come with the stroke of Thy rod Spare it not—if it hasten the meeting Of a penitent heart and its God.

O stained hands—cleansed by His grasping! O bleeding feet—healed in His ways! Leave thy sins, and press onward, close-clasping The cross of thy shame and His praise. And the tearful eyes healed of their blindness Shall see, from the lowliest place, The wonderful mercy and kindness That shines in his pardoning face. —Mary Lowe Dickinson.