Why dost Thou pass unheeded,

Treading with piercèd feet

The halls of the kingly palace,

The busy street?

Oh marvellous in Thy beauty,

Crowned with the light of God,

Why fall they not down to worship

Where Thou has trod?

Why are Thy hands extended

Beseeching whilst men pass by

With their empty words and their laughter,

Yet passing on to die?

Unseen, unknown, unregarded,

Calling and waiting yet—

They hear Thy knock and they tremble—

They hear, and they forget.

And Thou in the midst art standing

Of old and for ever the same—

Thou hearest their songs and their jesting,

But not Thy Name.

The thirty-three years forgotten

Of the weary way Thou hast trod—

Thou art but a name unwelcome,

O Saviour God!

Yet amongst the highways and hedges,

Amongst the lame and the blind,

The poor and the maimed and the outcast,

Still dost Thou seek and find—

There by the wayside lying

The eyes of Thy love can see

The wounded, the naked, the dying,

Too helpless to come to Thee.

So art Thou watching and waiting

Till the wedding is furnished with guests—

And the last of the sorrowful singeth,

And the last of the weary rests.