Words: , Four Hymns on Di­vine Sub­jects, 1765.

Music: Federal Street, , 1832.


Behold, a Stranger at the door!
He gently knocks, has knocked before,
Has waited long, is waiting still:
You treat no other friend so ill.

O lovely attitude! He stands
With melting heart and laden hands;
O matchless kindness! and He shows
This matchless kindness to His foes.

But will He prove a Friend indeed?
He will; the very Friend you need;
The Friend of sinners—yes, ’tis He,
With garments dyed on Calvary.

Rise, touched with gratitude divine;
Turn out His enemy and thine,
That soul destroying monster, sin,
And let the heavenly Stranger in.

Admit Him, for the human breast
Ne’er entertained so kind a Guest;
No mortal tongue their joys can tell
With whom He condescends to dwell.

Sovereign of souls, Thou Prince of Peace,
O may Thy gentle reign increase:
Throw wide the door, each willing mind;
And be His empire all mankind.