At The Door

Behold the Saviour at the door!
He gently knocks, has knocked before,
Has waited long, is waiting still,
You treat no other friend so ill.


He counsels thee to buy of him,
Gold tried by fire, and raiment clean;
Anoint thine eyes, that thou may’st see,
And put away thy stains from thee.


O, hear the faithful Witness’ voice,
He offers now a final choice;
Thou art offensive, O lukewarm!
Therefore be zealous and reform.


His mission now is almost o’er,
Before the throne he’ll plead no more;
The filthy must his filth retain,
He that is holy, so remain


His locks with dews of night are wet,
But at thy heart he ling’reth yet;
Awake! And open wide the door;
Bid thy Beloved wait no more.


Yes, bring him in, a welcome guest;
So shalt thou in his presence rest;
And in communion sweet and free,
Shalt sup with him and he with thee.