The River

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by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

   I am a river flowing from God’s sea
   Through devious ways. He mapped my course for me;
   I cannot change it; mine alone the toil
   To keep the waters free from grime and soil.
   The winding river ends where it began;
   And when my life has compassed its brief span
   I must return to that mysterious source.
   So let me gather daily on my course
   The perfume from the blossoms as I pass,
   Balm from the pines, and healing from the grass,
   And carry down my current as I go
   Not common stones but precious gems to show;
   And tears (the holy water from sad eyes)
   Back to God’s sea, from which all rivers rise,
   Let me convey, not blood from wounded hearts,
   Nor poison which the upas tree imparts.
   When over flowery vales I leap with joy,
   Let me not devastate them, nor destroy,
   But rather leave them fairer to the sight;
   Mine be the lot to comfort and delight.
   And if down awful chasms I needs must leap,
   Let me not murmur at my lot, but sweep
   On bravely to the end without one fear,
   Knowing that He who planned my ways stands near.
   Love sent me forth, to Love I go again,
   For Love is all, and over all. Amen.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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