Her primal birth, an incomplete design,
Is shaped in stuff of humble quality.
More late, in living marble’s purity
The chisel keepeth promise to the full;
Reborn is the idea so beautiful,
That it belongeth to eternity.
So me did Nature make the model rude,
The model of myself, a better thing
By nobleness of thine to be renewed;
If thy compassion, its work cherishing,