I came to the door of the House of
And knocked as the starry night went by;
And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said"It is I."And Love looked down from a lattice
Where the roses were dry as the lips of the dead:"There is not room in the House of
For you both," he said.
I plucked a leaf from the porch and
Away through a desert of scoffs and
To a lonely place where I prayed and
And wove me a crown of thorns.
I came once more to the House of
And knocked, ah, softly and wistfully,
And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said"None now but thee."And the great doors opened wide
And a voice rang out from a glory of light,"Make room, make room for a faithful
In the House of Love, to-night."
