As rebels, Lord, who foolishly have wandered
Far from Your love—unfed, unclean, unclothed—
Dare we recall Your wealth so rashly squandered,
Dare hope to glean that bounty which we loathed?
Still we return, our contrite words rehearsing,
Speech, that within Your warm embrace soon dies;
All of our guilt, our shame, our pain reversing
As tears of joy and welcome fill Your eyes.
A feast of love for us You are preparing;
We who were lost, You give an honored place!
“Come, eat; come, drink, and be no more despairing—
Here taste again the treasures of My grace.”