The Poetry Corner

I Am Running Forth To Meet You

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I am running forth to meet you, O my Master, For they tell me you are surely on the way; Yes, they tell me you are coming back again (While I run, while I run). And I wish my feet were winged to speed on faster, And I wish I might behold you here to-day, Lord of men. I am running, yet I walk beside my neighbour, And I take the duties given me to do; Yes, I take the daily duties as they fall (While I run, while I run), And my heart runs to my hand and helps the labour, For I think this is the way that leads to you, Lord of all. I am running, yet I turn from toil and duty, Oftentimes to just the art of being glad; Yes, to just the joys that make the earth-world bright (While I run, while I run). For the soul that worships God must worship beauty, And the heart that thinks of You can not be sad, Lord of light. I am running, yet I pause to greet my brother, And I lean to rid my garden of its weed; Yes, I lean, although I lift my thoughts above (While I run, while I run). And I think of that command, 'Love one another,' As I hear discordant sounds of creed with creed, Lord of Love. I am running, and the road is lit with splendour, And it brightens and shines fairer with each span; Yes, it brightens like the highway in a dream (While I run, while I run). And my heart to all the world grows very tender, For I seem to see the Christ in every man, Lord supreme.