- Chisel in hand stood a sculptor boy
- With his marble block, before him
- And his face lit up, with a smile of joy,
- As an angel dream passed o’er him.
- He carved the dream, on that shapeless stone,
- With many a sharp incision;
- With heaven’s own light, the sculpture shone
- He had caught that angel vision.
- Sculptors of life are we, as we stand,
- With our lives uncarved before us,
- Waiting the time, when at God’s command,
- Our life-dream shall pass o’er us:
- If we carve it then on the yielding stone,
- With many a sharp incision,
- Its heavenly beauty shall be our own,
- Our lives, that angel vision.
