English poem
A Christmas Hymn
by Norah M. Holland (1876–1925)
No room for Thee, O Baby Jesukin, No room within the inn; Only the stable door is standing wide, And there inside The ox and ass their patient foreheads bow Before Thee now.
No room for Thee, O little Lord of all, In cottage or in hall; Yet o'er Thy stable angel voices sound Telling around To the wide world a Prince is born to them In Bethlehem.
No room for Thee--yet the wise Kings have sped To kneel beside Thy bed, Offering their gifts, myrrh, frankincense, and gold, To Thee to hold; And all the angel armies of the air Are gathered there.
No room for Thee--yet the wide earth is Thine, And this poor heart of mine; Though oft Thy Hand has tried its doors in vain, Yet come again; Wide open now it stands--O Light of Light, Enter to-night.