By:
T.W.P. Wolston, Editor
(TUNE―Christian Choir; No. 9.)
IN the land of strangers,
Whither thou art gone,
Hear a far voice calling
My son! my son!
From the land of hunger,
Fainting, famished, lone,
Come to love and gladness,
My son! my son!
Quit the haunts of riot,
Wasted, woe-begone;
Sick at heart and weary,
My son! my son!
See the door still open!
Thou art still my own;
Eyes of love are on thee,
My son! my son!
Far off thou hast wandered:
Wilt thou further roam?
Come: and all is pardoned,
My son! my son!
See the well-spread table,
Unforgotten one!
Here is rest and plenty,
My son! my son!
Thou art friendless, homeless,
Hopeless and undone;
Mine is love unchanging,
My son! my son!
H. BONAR