"Go Home to Thy Friends"
By Clara Edna Rosencrans
Thou hast been among the tombs,
Tormented and sore distressed.
The morning brought no joy,
And the evening brought no rest.
Thou didst cry in thy bitter pain,
Thou didst cut thyself with stones,
Till the Healer came this way,
And said, in such gentle tones,
"Go home to thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for
thee." Thy friends had forsaken thee,
Thou didst grope in the dark alone,
With none but God to hear
Thy bitter, bitter moan.
The devils made thee blaspheme
Thy best and only Friend.
But the Healer came this way,
And thy sufferings had end—
"Go home to thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for
thee." Not to some far-off land
Should the story first be told,
But to the household band
Who sit by the hearthstone cold.
Warmth, and comfort, and light,
Bring home to thy friends in need;
Scatter with joyous heart
A generous, loving meed—
"Go home to thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for
thee." Then go home to thy friends,
And tell the story sweet,
Of the joy that has come to thee,
And thy healing so complete.
They will come to this Loving One,
For they're longing to be at rest;
They wander up and down,
Whom the demons have oppressed.
"Go home to thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for
thee." Thou sinning, sorrowing one,
Wheresoever thou mayest be,
Dost thou hear His loving voice,
As it whispers soft to thee?
Dost thou hear Him gently say,
As He bids the demons depart,
As His wondrous life and love
Flow into thy aching heart,
"Go home to thy friends, and tell them how
great things the Lord hath done for
thee?"