Poetry

The Repentant

My King I come to Thee,
And I do bow the knee.
O Blesséd Lord, Give ear!
And let me know you hear!

Thou art my Gracious God,
And Jesus is my Lord.
Intemp'rate though I am,
I'm here because of Him.

My God, for Jesus' sake,
O me do not forsake!
My shaméd face I've hid,
For I was sore defiled.

My heart, O Gracious Savior,
Was robbed of all good-cheer,
'Cause on Thy throne he sat,
Thy throne that is my heart:

He walked Thy corridors,
And stained Thy banquet-halls.
Said I, "what doest thou?"
No to him I did bow.

My gifts were at his feet
(The incense smelled so sweet!),
The gifts Thou gave to me.
The incense, he set free,

But gladly the gifts op'd.
They fell from his mad-hand;
He said they were but vain!
My tears I couldn't contain.

The incense and the gifts
Went out the same windows,
Set free by him my king
As an unwanted thing.

The pain brought me to Thee;
I told him leave me be!
The gifts the fool disdained,
Were by the Wise acclaimed.

From him I took Thy crown,
And forced him off Thy throne!
With spears and swords and staves,
I chased him from Thy gates.

O King, I'm on my knees,
Defiled and blind I was.
But Thou did op'd my eyes,
O won't you take the keys?

 The poem depicts two kings, which necessitates the pronoun 'he': one King is Christ, the other is anything else. There must be a king upon the throne, either Christ or someone (something) else.