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 that dream on the yielding stone
With many a sharp incision;
In heaven’s own light the sculptor shone,
He had caught that angel vision.
Sculptors of life are we, as we stand,
With our lives uncarved before us;
Waiting the hour when, at God’s command,