Poem May 12, 1945 Issue

Come Home

EMILY PATTERSON SPEAR

My son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine;
Thy brother left my house of love, his heritage divine,
And sought in alien lands afar the recompense of life;
My son, thy brother found not peace but suffering and strife.
And when he hungered for the husks he fed the herded swine,
He cried aloud, "Father, forgive, that table spread was mine."
My son, I knew thy brother's need, I heard his cry of woe,
And called to him, "Come home, my son, come home and ever know
Thou art my son, my open door is waiting now for thee;
Come home, put on the royal robe of true humility,
And wear again the ring of gold, of endless love the sign,
And know that all the Father hath, my son, is ever thine."

My sons, united by my love, rejoice with me, rejoice.
Lift up your hearts in unison, sing with exultant voice;
May praise ascending from this house in mighty measure prove
The unreality of sin, the redeeming power of love.

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