There Was No Room for Them in the Inn (Repplier)

No room for Him

in whose small hand

The trou­bled sea and migh­ty land

Lie cra­dled like a grain of sand;

No room

dear Babe

for Thee

That Christ­mas night; and we

E’en dare to shut our sin­ful hearts

And turn the key.

Fling wide the door

and bid the Lord

Come in

come in.

In vain Thy plead­ing ba­by cry

Strikes our deaf souls; we pass Thee by

Unsheltered ’neath the win­try sky.

No room for God? Shall we

Close bar our doors

nor see

Our Sav­ior wait­ing just out­side

So turn the key.

Fling wide the doors! dear Christ

turn back!

The ash­es on my heart lie black—

Of light and warmth a to­tal lack.

This de­so­la­tion drear

Has filled my heart with fear;

How can I bid Thee

Christ

my Lord

Find en­trance here?

What bleak­er shel­ter can there be

Than my cold heart’s te­pi­di­ty—

Chilled

wind-tossed as the win­ter sea?

I shrink from Thy pure eye:

To of­fer—naught have I;

Yet

in Thy mer­cy

Lord

I cry

Pass me not by.