XCIII.

St. LUKE Chap. XV. Ver. 16, to-19.

93

16. He would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the Swine did eat: and no man gave unto him.

17. And when he came to himself, he faid, How many hired fervants of my father's have bread enough and to Spare, and I perish with hunger?

18. I will arife and go to my father, and will fay unto him, Father I have finned against heaven, and before thee,

19. And am no more worthy to be called thy fon: make me as one of thy hired fervants.

CXIV.

The Prodigal returns: his reception by his Father.

HIS Father faw him as he came, and ran,

Embrac'd and kifs'd, and thus the Son began: O Father! if 'tis lawful yet to claim

An Int'reft in that dear, that injur'd Name,
So great my Crimes against both Heav'n and thee;
A Son no more, a Servant let me be!

Too big the Parent's Joy to be exprest,
My Son, he cry'd, and fpak
in Tears the reft.
For fordid Rags in fplendid Robes he's drefs'd.
A Banquet for his welcom they prepare,
Nor want harmonious Songs and Mufic there:
His Brother weary from the Field came home,
And Sounds of Joy he heard in ev'ry Room,
Wond'ring the Cause, he asks, which when he
knew,

He from the Gates with Indignation flew,
His Father pleads, but more enrag'd he grew;
"If thus a Prodigal muft treated be,

"Who wou'd be careful and a Slave like me?

The Father thus--- To thee my ALL I give; Long fince, thy Brother did his Share receive: His fecond Birth-day fhou'd with Joy be crown'd, Tho' Dead and Loft in Vice, he's now Alive, and Found.

XCIV.

St. LUKE Chap. XV. Ver. 20, 21, 22.

94

20. He arofe, and came to his father, But when he was yet a great way off, his father faw him, and had compaffion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kiffed him.

21. And the fon faid unto him, Father, I have finned against heaven, and in thy fight, and am no more worthy to be called thy fon.

22. But the father faid to his fervants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his band, and fhoes on his feet.

A

XCV.

The Parable of the unjuft Steward.

Lord there was whofe Steward prov'd unjust, His Goods he wafted, and abus'd his Truft; He bids him ftrait for his Accounts prepare, What shall he do-- perplex'd with anxious Care, Whither to go when him his Lord difclaim'd; He cannot Dig, and is to Beg afham'd? At length, refolv'd, he takes the wifeft way, And thus provides against a rainy Day: For all his Master's Debtors ftrait be fent, And ask'd'em what they ow'd in Goods or Rent: The First a Hundred Pound, he bids him take His Bill with speed, and only Fifty make. The reft the like: - fo worldly-wife are those Who here their Treafure and their Hopes repofe: Not fo the genuin Sons of Light appear, Born to be injur'd, trick'd, and cheated here. Yet they from hence may learn, and Friends secure, Which shall beyond this fhort-liv'd World endure; With earthly Mammon those in want relieve, Who on the Bounds of Bliss, fhall them with Joy receive.

XCV.

St. LUKE Chap. XVI. Ver. 3, to 9.

95

3. The Steward faid within himself, What shall I do? for my lord taketh away from me the steward fhip: I cannot dig, to beg I am ashamed.

4. I am refolved what to do, that when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their bouses.

5. So he called every one of his lords debters unto him, and faid unto the firft, How much owest thou unto my lord?

6. And he faid, An hundred measures of oyl. And he faid unto him, Take thy bill, and fit down quickly, and write fifty, &c.