William Channing Gannett (1840–1923)

“Whatever road I take joins the highway that leads to thee.”

WHEN the night is still and far,

Watcher from the shadowed deeps!

When the morning breaks its bar,

Life that shines and wakes and leaps!

When old Bible-verses glow,

Starring all the deep of thought,

Till it fills with quiet dawn

From the peace our years have brought,—

Sun within both skies, we see

How all lights lead back to thee!

’Cross the field of daily work

Run the footpaths, leading—where?

Run they east or run they west,

One way all the workers fare.

Every awful thing of earth,—

Sin and pain and battle-noise;

Every dear thing,—baby’s birth,

Faces, flowers, or lovers’ joys,—

Is a wicket-gate, where we

Join the great highway to thee!

Restless, restless, speed we on,—

Whither in the vast unknown?

Not to you and not to me

Are the sealèd orders shown:

But the Hand that built the road,

And the Light that leads the feet,

And this inward restlessness,

Are such invitation sweet,

That where I no longer see,

Highway still must lead to thee!