The Going of His Feet

His feet went here and there About the common earth. He touched to grandeur all Men held of little worth. He loved the growing flowers, The small bright singing birds, The patient flocks of sheep, The many-pastured herds. The field of rippling corn That shimmered in the sun, The soft blue smoke of eve That curled when day was done.... He did not search afar For what He had to say: His mind reached forth and drew Its strength from every day:} The struggling nets, alive With fish drawn from the sea Supplied Him with the apt And chosen simile.... He saw a neighbor build A house that did not stand⁠— And men may not forget The House Upon The Sand; He saw a widow drop Her mite into the hoard⁠— And to eternity That treasure is up-stored; He heard a publican Who thought none others there⁠— The souls of all mankind Are richer for that prayer.... O, Poet of the World, I pray Thee, come to me, That my lame heart might walk, That my dark soul may see; And teach me, too, to go About the ways of earth And find the Wealth of God In things of little worth!