THE STRANGE GUEST

You cannot leave a new house

With any open door,

But a strange guest will enter it

And never leave it more.

Build it on a waste land,

Dreary as a sin.

Leave her but a broken gate,

And Beauty will come in.

Build it all of scarlet brick.

Work your wicked will.

Dump it on an ash-heap

Then — O then, be still.

Sit and watch your new house.

Leave an open door.

A strange guest will enter it

And never leave it more.

She will make your raw wood

Mellower than gold.

She will take your new lamps

And sell them for old.

She will crumble all your pride,

Break your folly down.

Much that you rejected

She will bless and crown.

She will rust your naked roof,

Split your pavement through,

Dip her brush in sun and moon

And colour it anew.

Leave her but a window

Wide to wind and rain,

You shall find her footsteps

When you come again.

Though she keep you waiting

Many months or years,

She shall stain and make it

Beautiful with tears.

She shall hurt and heal it,

Soften it and save,

Blessing it, until it stand

Stronger than the grave.

You cannot leave a new house

With any open door,

But a strange guest will enter it

And never leave it more.