Oh Give Me Back My Prophet Dear

1. Oh give me back my Prophet dear And Patriarch, Oh give them back The Saints of latter-days to cheer, And lead them in the gospel track! But Oh they’re gone from my embrace, From earthly scenes their spirits fled. Two of the best of Adam’s race Now lie entombed among the dead.

2. Ye men of wisdom, tell me why— No guilt, no crime in them were found, Their blood doth now so loudly cry From prison walls and Carthage ground. Your tongues are mute, but pray attend, The secret I will now relate Why those whom God to earth did lend Have met the suffering martyrs’ fate.

3. It is because they strove to gain Beyond the grave a heaven of bliss, Because they made the gospel plain And led the Saints to righteousness; It is because God called them forth And led them by his own right hand Christ’s coming to proclaim on earth And gather Israel to their land.

4. It is because the priests of Baal Were desperate their craft to save, And when they saw it doomed to fall, They sent the Prophets to their grave. Like scenes the ancient Prophets saw, Like these the ancient Prophets fell, And, till the resurrection dawn, Prophet and Patriarch, farewell!