I mused within my heart,
Sin-stricken and forlorn;
I felt the cruel dart,
By which my heart was torn.

I longed to tell my grief,
Where I could well confide;
But ah, no calm relief
Came to my wounded pride.

I heard a knock without:
A voice in kindness spake,
That banished all my doubt,
And bade my hope awake.

I drew the bolt aside,
Forthwith my Lord came in,
He spake not to deride,
Nor looked to shame my sin.

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But at my humble board,
He sat and supped with me,
So gracious is my Lord,
And full of sympathy.

Lord, on Thy lonesome way,
Ne'er pass my humble door,
Come in and sup, I pray,
As Thou didst heretofore.