| W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895. | | | | A Prodigal Son | | Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830–1894) |
| | | DOES that lamp still burn in my Father’s house, | |
| Which he kindled the night I went away? | |
| I turned once beneath the cedar boughs, | |
| And marked it gleam with a golden ray; | |
| Did he think to light me home some day? | 5 |
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| Hungry here with the crunching swine, | |
| Hungry harvest have I to reap; | |
| In a dream I count my Father’s kine, | |
| I hear the tinkling bells of his sheep | |
| I watch his lambs that browse and leap. | 10 |
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| There is plenty of bread at home, | |
| His servants have bread enough and to spare; | |
| The purple wine-fat froths with foam, | |
| Oil and spices make sweet the air, | |
| While I perish hungry and bare. | 15 |
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| Rich and blessed those servants, rather | |
| Than I who see not my Father’s face! | |
| I will arise and go to my Father,— | |
| “Fallen from sonship, beggared of grace, | |
| Grant me Father, a servant’s place.” | 20 | | | |
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