O Jesus, Thou art standing Outside the fast closed door,
In lowly patience waiting To pass the threshold o'r:
O shame, professing Christian, His name and sign who bear,
O shame, thrice shame upon us, To keep Him standing there!

O Jesus, Thou art knocking; And, lo, that hand is scarred,
And thorns Thy brow encircle, And tears Thy face have marred.
O love that passeth knowledge, So patiently to wait!
O sin that hath no equal, So fast to bar the gate!

O Jesus, Thou art pleading In accents meek and low,
"I died for you, My children, And will ye treat Me so?"
O Lord, with shame and sorrow We open now the door;
Dear Savior, enter, enter, And leave us never more.