Song

I came to the doors of the House of Love

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 above

Where the roses were dry as the lips of the dead;

"There is not room in the House of Love

For you both," he said.

I plucked a leaf from the porch and crept

Away through a desert of scoffs and scorns

To a lonely place where I prayed and wept

And wove me a crown of thorns.

I came once more to the House of Love

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 apart

And a voice rang out from a glory of light,

"Make room, make room for a faithful heart

In the House of Love, to-night."