With heaven’s own light the sculptor shone—
He had caught the angel-vision.
“Sculptors of life are we, as we stand,
With our soul uncarved before us,
Waiting the hour, when at God’s command,
Our life-dream passes 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.”