Despised And Rejected

My sun has set, I dwell     In darkness as a dead man out of sight;     And none remains, not one, that I should tell     To him mine evil plight     This bitter night.     I will make fast my door     That hollow friends may trouble me no more.     'Friend, open to Me.' - Who is this that calls?     Nay, I am deaf as are my walls:     Cease crying, for I will not hear     Thy cry of hope or fear.     Others were dear,     Others forsook me: what art thou indeed     That I should heed     Thy lamentable need?     Hungry should feed,     Or stranger lodge thee here?     'Friend, My Feet bleed.     Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.'     I will not open, trouble me no more.     Go on thy way footsore,     I will not rise and open unto thee.     'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see     Who stands to plead with thee.     Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou     One day entreat My Face     And howl for grace,     And I be deaf as thou art now.     Open to Me.'     Then I cried out upon him: Cease,     Leave me in peace:     Fear not that I should crave     Aught thou mayst have.     Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,     Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.     What, shall I not be let     Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?     But all night long that voice spake urgently:     'Open to Me.'     Still harping in mine ears:     'Rise, let Me in.'     Pleading with tears:     'Open to Me that I may come to thee.'     While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:     'My Feet bleed, see My Face,     See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,     My Heart doth bleed for thee,     Open to Me.'     So till the break of day:     Then died away     That voice, in silence as of sorrow;     Then footsteps echoing like a sigh     Passed me by,     Lingering footsteps slow to pass.     On the morrow     I saw upon the grass     Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door     The mark of blood for evermore.