Afflictions, Though They Seem Severe;
In Mercy Oft Are Sent;
They Stopped The Prodigal’s Career,
And Forced Him To Repent.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,”He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
Although He No Relentings Felt
Till He Had Spent His Store;
His Stubborn Heart Began To Melt
When Famine Pinched Him Sore.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,”He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
“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 Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,”He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
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.”
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,”He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
His Father Saw Him Coming Back,
He Saw, And Ran, And Smiled;
And Threw His Arms Around The Neck
Of His Rebellious Child.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,”He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
“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.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread, “He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
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.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread, “He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
‘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.
“I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread,
I’ll Not Pine Here For Bread, “He Cries;
“Nor Starve In Foreign Lands:
My Father’s House Has Large Supplies,
And Bounteous Are His Hands.”
Afflictions Though They Seem title, Afflictions Though They Seem title, Afflictions Though They Seem title, Afflictions Though They Seem lyrics.