Martha Snell Nicholson -- Guests

Pain knocked upon my door and said
That she had come to stay,
And though I would not welcome her
But bade her go away,
She entered in. Like my own shade
She followed after me,
And from her stabbing, stinging sword
No moment was I free.
And then one day another knocked
Most gently at my door.
I cried, “No, Pain is living here,
And there is not room for more.”
And then I heard His tender voice,
“Tis I, be not afraid.”
And from the day He entered in—
The difference it has made!
For though He did not bid her leave,
(My strange, unwelcome guest),
He taught me how to live with her,
Oh, I had never guessed
That we could dwell so sweetly here,
My Lord and Pain and I,
Within this fragile house of clay
While years slip slowly by!

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