POEM OF THE WEEK

"I had walked life's pathway with easy tread,
Had followed where comfort and pleasure led;
And then it chanced, in a quiet place,
I met my Master, face to face.

I had built my castles and built them high,
With towers that pierced the blue of the sky;
I had sworn to rule with an iron mace,
Then I met my Master, face to face.

I met Him and knew Him and blushed to see
That His eyes, full of sorrow, were fixed on me,
And I faltered and fell at His feet that day,
While my castles melted and vanished away.

Melted and vanished, but in their place
I saw naught else but my Master's face.
And I cried aloud, "0, make me meet
To follow the marks of Thy nail-scarred feet."

My thoughts are now for the SOULS OF MEN,
I've lost my life to find it again.
Ever since, alone in that holy place,
I met my Master, face to face."

Quoted from the Gospel Tract Harvester Newsletter, June 2007, page 15