Suppose that you should one day come,
Devoid of hope and starved and numb,
And cry for love, and get a crumb?
Open your door.
Devoid of hope and starved and numb,
And cry for love, and get a crumb?
Open your door.
Open the door of your soul;
Hide not the spark of faith divine,
The sweet, pure hope that is the sign
Of God-head tender and benign,
That man retains.
Suppose one came in sorest plight,
Came groping through the spirit's night
And lost his way for lack of light
Because you hid your lamp from sight?
Open your door!
Hide not the spark of faith divine,
The sweet, pure hope that is the sign
Of God-head tender and benign,
That man retains.
Suppose one came in sorest plight,
Came groping through the spirit's night
And lost his way for lack of light
Because you hid your lamp from sight?
Open your door!
RECOMPENSE
AND what, indeed, if this be all,
This little span of earthly years
With fleeting hopes and transient tears,
With froth of fame and dregs of fears?
What if I have no deathless soul,
But with the ceasing of life's stress
(In spite of priestly lips that bless)
I sink down into nothingness,
Beyond the coffin and the somber pall
To hear and answer no immortal call?
This little span of earthly years
With fleeting hopes and transient tears,
With froth of fame and dregs of fears?
What if I have no deathless soul,
But with the ceasing of life's stress
(In spite of priestly lips that bless)
I sink down into nothingness,
Beyond the coffin and the somber pall
To hear and answer no immortal call?
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