The Prodigal Son
John Newton 1725 (Wapping, London) – 1807 (London)
Afflictions, though they seem severe;
In mercy oft are sent;
They stopped the prodigal's career,
And forced him to repent.
Although he no relentings felt
Till he had spent his store;
His stubborn heart began to melt
When famine pinched him sore.
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 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.
His father saw him coming back,
He saw, and ran, and smiled;
And threw his arms around the neck
Of his rebellious child.
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.
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.
'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.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on April 29, 2023
- 59 sec read
- 275 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | ABAB CDCD EAEX FGFG XHXH XEXE XIXI JXJX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 980 |
Words | 188 |
Stanzas | 8 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"The Prodigal Son" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 12 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/24031/the-prodigal-son>.
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