Scripture Verse

The gate of Heaven. Genesis 28:17

Introduction

portrait
Charles C. Converse (1834–1918)

Words: Will­iam L. Al­ex­an­der, 1865. The ag­ed be­liev­er at the gate of Hea­ven. Some hym­nals give the au­thor as John Guth­rie, but it seems like­ly this was for an adap­ta­tion: Both Ju­li­an and Ross cre­dit the words to Al­ex­an­der.

Music: Charles C. Con­verse, Sil­ver Wings (Bos­ton, Mas­sa­chu­setts & New York: Ol­iv­er Dit­son & C. H. Dit­son, 1870), num­ber 88 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
William L. Alexander (1808–1884)

I wrote it, writes Dr. Al­ex­an­der, af­ter an ev­en­ing spent with my ven­er­a­ble fa­ther, then near the end of his earth­ly pil­grim­age, and when he spoke much of his long­ing to de­part to and join those who had been the com­pan­ions of his pil­grim­age, but had pre­ced­ed him in­to the bet­ter land. (E. MS.)

In 1865 it was print­ed in the Sun­day Mag­azine in 5 stan­zas of 8 lines. From that ma­ga­zine it first passed in­to a few Am­er­ican hym­nals, and then in­to the 1874 Sup­ple­ment to the New Con­gre­ga­tion­al Hymn Book; the Hym­nal Com­pan­ion, 1876, and oth­ers. It is the most po­pu­lar of Dr. Al­ex­an­der’s hymns.

Julian, p. 562

Lyrics

I’m kneeling at the thresh­old,
So wea­ry, faint, and sore,
Waiting for the dawn­ing,
The op­en­ing of the door;
I’m wait­ing till the Mas­ter
Shall bid me rise and come
To His all glo­ri­ous pre­sence,
The glad­ness of His home.

Refrain

Kneeling at the thresh­old,
Weary, faint and sore;
Kneeling at the thresh­old,
My hand is at the door.

A wea­ry path I’ve tra­veled,
’Mid dark­ness, storm and strife;
Bearing ma­ny a bur­den,
And strug­gling for my life;
But now the morn is break­ing,
My toil will soon be o’er;
I’m kneel­ing at the thresh­old,
My hand is on the door.

Refrain

Methinks I hear the voic­es
Of loved ones as they stand,
Singing in the sun­shine,
In that fair sin­less land:
Oh, would that I were with them,
Amid their shin­ing throng,
And ming­ling in their wor­ship,
And join­ing in their song!

Refrain

The friends that start­ed with me
Have en­tered long ago;
One by one they left me
Still strug­gling with the foe;
Their pil­grim­age was short­er,
Their tri­umph sur­er won,
How lov­ing­ly they’ll hail me,
When all my toil is done.

Refrain

With them the bless­èd an­gels,
That know no grief or sin,
Standing by the por­tals,
Prepared to let me in;
O Lord, I wait Thy plea­sure—
Thy time and way are best;
But I’m all worn and wea­ry;
O Fa­ther, bid me rest!

Refrain