I had walked life’s path with an easy tread,
had followed where comfort and pleasure led.
And then one day in a quiet place,
I met the Master, face to face.

With station and rank and wealth for a goal,
much thought for the body, but none for the soul.
I had thought to win in life’s mad race,
when I met the Master, face to face.

I had built my castles and reared them high,
till their towers pierced the blue of the sky.
I had vowed to rule with an iron mace,
when I met the Master, face to face.

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

Melted and vanished and in their place,
I saw naught else but my Master’s face.
And I cried aloud: “Oh make me meek,
to follow the path of Thy wounded feet.”

And now my thoughts are for the souls of men,
I’ve lost my life to find it again.
E’er since that day in a quiet place,
I met the Master, face to face.