Poem March 16, 1935 Issue

Behold, I Stand at the Door

ALMA G. V. HARRISON

Dear Christ, I heard thee knocking,
As with sorrow and pain I strove;
I knew that thou wert waiting,
With outstretched hand of love.

I heard thy clear voice whisper,
Child, open the door to me,
I will bring thee joy and healing
When I enter to sup with thee.

Ah, Saviour! I cannot open,
The door seems held fast by sin!
Thou, child, canst alone unclose it,
For the latch of the door is within.

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