Nonfiction > E.C. Stedman & E.M. Hutchinson, eds. > A Library of American Literature > 1861–1889
Stedman and Hutchinson, comps.  A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes.  1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
The Guest
By Harriet McEwen Kimball (1834–1917)
[Born in Portsmouth, N. H., 1834. Died there, 1917.]

          “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.”—Rev. iii. 20.

SPEECHLESS Sorrow sat with me;
I was sighing wearily;
Lamp and fire were out; the rain
Wildly beat the window-pane.
In the dark I heard a knock;        5
And a hand was on the lock;
One in waiting spake to me,
    Saying sweetly,
“I am come to sup with thee.”
All my room was dark and damp;        10
“Sorrow,” said I, “trim the lamp,
Light the fire, and cheer thy face,
Set the guest-chair in its place.”
And again I heard the knock:
In the dark I found the lock:—        15
“Enter, I have turned the key;
    Enter, Stranger,
Who art come to sup with me.”
Opening wide the door he came,
But I could not speak his name;        20
In the guest-chair took his place,
But I could not see his face.
When my cheerful fire was beaming,
When my little lamp was gleaming,
And the feast was spread for three,        25
    Lo, my MASTER
Was the Guest that supped with me!

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