Return, O wanderer, return,
And seek thy Father's face;
Those new desires which in thee burn,
Were kindled by His grace.

Return, O wanderer, return;
He hears thy humble sigh;
He sees thy softened spirit mourn,
When no one else is nigh.

Return, O wanderer, return;
Thy Saviour bids thee live;
Come to His cross, and, grateful, learn
How freely He'll forgive.

Return, O wanderer, return;
And wipe the falling tear;
Thy father calls-no longer mourn;
'Tis love invites thee near.

Return, O wanderer, return;
Regain thy long, sought rest;
The Saviour's melting mercies yearn
To clasp thee to His breast.