Beside the portal of the shadowy door
She paused irresolute; she did not really know
What lay beyond; but quiet seemed it there
And warm, and promise of a shelter gave
From bitter cold of winter's war-swept world,
And surcease seemed to hold
From strain of ceaseless struggle
With false sense and sin.
Then while she paused irresolute—
For none need cross the threshold of the door
Until they give their own consent—
She felt a loving Presence drawing near,
A tender healing touch upon her heart,
And heard a gentle voice which said:
"Stay, for the King hath need of thee,"
And knew she could not enter that dim door.
For Life once more enwrapped her, full and free,
Life that was ever present in its might,
And had but seemed to sense to dim
Because of her inconstancy; while Love
Drew her yet closer in a warm embrace
And whispered tenderly, "My child,
What greater comfort can there be
Than that the King Himself hath need of thee!"
