Ella Wheeler Wilcox
The Empty Bowl - Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I held the golden vessel of my soul
And prayed that God would fill it from on high.
Day after day the importuning cry
Grew stronger-grew, a heaven-accusing dole
Because no sacred waters laved my bowl.
'So full the fountain, Lord, wouldst Thou deny
The little needed for a soul's supply?
I ask but this small portion of Thy whole.'
Then from the vast invisible Somewhere,
A voice, as one love-authorized by Him,
Spake, and the tumult of my heart was stilled.
'Who wants the waters must the bowl prepare;
Pour out the self, that chokes it to the brim,
But emptied vessels, from the Source are filled.'
Comments about The Empty Bowl by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.