Written by George Leon Pike, Sr.
Copyright © 1976 by Betty M. Pike
1. Israel, oh Israel, God’s lovely, lovely Aiden,
Thou who art the apple of mine eye,
Return to Me, oh Israel, you are My staff of beauty:
Precious, precious Israel, oh, why should you die?
2. Israel, oh, Israel, why don’t you hear my pleading?
Return unto the bishop of your soul,
You are the first-born of My strength, the head of all the nations,
Without Me, mighty Israel, you’re left out in the cold.
3. Remember cruel, dark Calvary, oh, how much I suffered,
As they placed the thorns upon My head,
A lonely and a wounded heart, for you, there interceding,
As I received the nail prints in the houses of my friends.
4. Thy field shall blossom as a rose, ye shall forget thy troubles,
Like lost sheep, you’ve wandered all alone,
Hear My voice, oh, Israel, I’ve come now to redeem thee,
From a life of misery, I’ve come to take thee home.
I’ve scattered thee, great Israel, as seeds among the nations,
And as a seed sown in the earth, you were left alone to die,
But now’s the time of reaping, I shall bring in the harvest,
To gather thee, oh Israel, to set thee up on high.