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Afflictions, though they seem severe;
In mercy oft are sent;
They stopped the prodigal’s career,
And forced him to repent.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
Although he no relentings felt
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinched him sore.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
“What have I gained by sin, he said,
But hunger, shame, and fear;
My father’s house abounds with bread,
While I am starving here.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
I’ll go, and tell him all I’ve done,
And fall before his face
Unworthy to be called his son,
I’ll seek a servant’s place.”
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smiled;
And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
“Father, I’ve sinned—but O forgive!”
I’ve heard enough, he said,
Rejoice my house, my son’s alive,
For whom I mourned as dead.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
Now let the fatted calf be slain,
And spread the news around;
My son was dead, but lives again,
Was lost, but now is found.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
’Tis thus the Lord His love reveals,
To call poor sinners home;
More than a father’s love He feels,
And welcomes all that come.
"I'll not pine here for bread,
I'll not pine here for bread,"he cries;
"Nor starve in foreign lands:
My Father's house has large supplies,
And bounteous are His hands."
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.) and refra
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1779
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Bible Refs:
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Lk 15:17;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| | # 463 |
MUSIC
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Name:
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THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.) and refra
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Song #
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Key
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| # 463 | Ab |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
