The Stable Door

Open wide the stable door,

Monarchs rich and shepherds poor

Wait to tread the holy floor

Where lies the

Son of God.

See, they bring

Him gifts of gold,

Tender lambs from

Judah's fold,

As with awe their eyes behold

The infant

Son of God.

I am not a wealthy

King,Naught have

I for offering.

E'en a lamb

I cannot bring

To give Thee,

Son of God.

Yet I would be at

Thy sideAnd the door is open wide!

What can empty hands provide,

Oh, what,

Thou Son of

God?Not without can

I remain,Not my heart's deep urge restrain,

Trembling 'neath my love and pain,

I come, dear

Son of God.

Now I bow me at

Thy stall,

Giftless, yet

I give Thee all;

Thou art the

Lord, and

I am thrall

To Thee, O

Son of God!