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Edgar Guest - At The Door
Work rating: Medium

He wiped his shoes before his door,
But ere he entered he did more;
`Twas not enough to cleanse his feet
Of dirt they`d gathered in the street;
He stood and dusted off his mind
And left all trace of care behind.
"In here I will not take," said he,
"The stains the day has brought to me.

"Beyond this door shall never go
The burdens that are mine to know;
The day is done, and here I leave
The petty things that vex and grieve;
What clings to me of hate and sin
To them I will not carry in;
Only the good shall go with me
For their devoted eyes to see.

"I will not burden them with cares,
Nor track the home with grim affairs;
I will not at my table sit
With soul unclean, and mind unfit;
Beyond this door I will not take
The outward signs of inward ache;
I will not take a dreary mind
Into this house for them to find."

He wiped his shoes before his door,
But paused to do a little more.
He dusted off the stains of strife,
The mud that`s incident to life,
The blemishes of careless thought,
The traces of the fight he`d fought,
The selfish humors and the mean,
And when he entered he was clean.
Source
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