The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump |
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 | The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti |  |
A PRODIGAL SON.
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?
Which he kindled the night I went away?
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And marked it gleam with a golden ray;
Did he think to light me home some day?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.”
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |