Disguised He stands without in the street;
Far come is He on heavy feet.
O heart of mine, open thy gate;
For darkness falls, and it is late!
Lord of the heaven’s fairest height,
Homeless in the traveler’s night,
Begging my hearth, my board, my cup,
That I, not He, may richly sup.
O soul of mine, the board begin,
And let this wondrous Beggar in!