Song

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."