I pray, O Master! let me lie,
As on thy bench the favored wood;
Thy saw, thy plane, thy chisel ply,
And work me into something good.
No! no! Ambition holy, high,
Urges for more than both to pray;
Come in, O gracious force, I cry,
O Workman! share my shed of clay.
Then I at bench, or desk, or oar,
With last, or needle, net, or pen,