No room in the inn; there was no room
For Bethlehem’s Babe that wintry day;
In swaddling bonds He was closely wrapped,
And laid in a manger on the hay.
No room in the inn; but heaven and earth
Were filled with His glory that wintry morn;
And the angels sang, and the shepherds heard
The song of glad tidings, “The Savior is born.”
No room in the inn; is there still no room
For the kingly Stranger who knocks today
At the doors of bustling, crowded hearts;
Is there still no room, must He turn away?
No room in the inn; let Him not again
Be kept outside; let Him stay no more
Knocking without, but let Him come in,
This Christmas day swing open the door.