But come not forth to share again.
Dear door, which never is shut tight,
And knows no bolt and needs no bar,
But through all ages stands ajar
To bless the eyes which yearn for sight,
And keep the souls that wait without
From the slow desolate death of doubt!
The Porch of Life is hard and bare,
And long the waiting sometimes seems.
But while we catch the out-reaching beams,