1 O Jesus, thou art standing, outside the fast closed door, in lowly patience waiting to pass the threshold o’er: O shame, professing Christians, his Name and sign who bear, O shame, thrice shame upon us, to keep him standing there! 2 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! 3 O Jesus, thou art pleading in accents meek and low, “I died for you, my children, and will you treat me so?” O Lord, with shame and sorrow we open now the door; dear Savior, enter, enter, and leave us never more.