The Guest Chamber

Is it to me the Mas­ter sends

The mes­sage of His grace?

Can He de­sire with­in my door

A dwell­ing place?

Oh

if like that in Beth­any

My home might be so blest

As to re­ceive the Lord Him­self

The won­drous Guest

How would swift love the place pre­pare

Where He should soon ab­ide

And ev­ery toil and ev­ery care

Be glo­ri­fied!

And when His step the thresh­old crossed

How sac­red ev­er­more

Would be this lit­tle room of mine

This low­ly door!

Listen

my soul! He comes in­deed

To be a guest of thine;

Know that thy hu­man heart may be

His sac­red shrine;

Sacred and blest for­ev­er­more

Since He will en­ter there;

Oh

let His dwell­ing be pre­pared

With faith and pray­er.

Wouldst thou un­to the Mas­ter’s will

Thine own will con­se­crate?

Look on His breth­ren poor and sad

Without thy gate;

Hear then what ten­der words He speaks

The Sin­less

Un­de­filed:

“Once I was poor

I dwelt on earth

A lit­tle child;

And ev­ery gen­tle min­is­try

Of love

whate’er it be

When giv­en to My friend­less ones

Is giv­en to Me.

Behold

He’s stand­ing at the door;

Hasten thy Lord to meet!

Bid Him come in that thou mayst kneel

Low at His feet.

There wilt thou learn

as Mary did

The heav­en­ly path to choose.

O Sav­ior

en­ter! Let me not

Thy pre­sence lose!