Christ At The Door

Behold! a Stranger's at the door; He gently knocks, has knocked before; Has waited long, is waiting still: You treat no other friend so ill.

But will He prove a friend indeed? He will; the very Friend you need; The Man of Nazareth, 'tis He, With garments dyed at Calvary.

O lovely attitude! He stands With melting heart and laden hands; O matchless kindness! and He shows This matchless kindness to His foes.

Rise, touched with gratitude Divine; Turn out His enemy and thine, That soul-destroying monster, sin, And let the heavenly Stranger in.

Admit Him ere His anger burn; His feet, departed, ne'er return; Admit Him, or the hour's at hand When at His door denied you'll stand. Amen.