O blessèd grief that brings relief
To prodigals afar!
The Father there has honored prayer,
And takes us as we are.
O wondrous grace that makes a place
For all who cease to roam!
With joyful song, and festive throng,
The Father takes us home.
From want and waste we gladly haste,
The heavenly hills we see;
We’re saved and blest, we’re home at rest,
With joy, dear Lord, in Thee.
The home long sought, the best robe brought,
The festal fatling slain—
The shoes, the ring, the hearts that sing—
O hear the joyful strain.
From wanderings vain, at home again,
The lost, the dead restored!
From His dear heart no more to part,
Nor from His regal board.