MASTER, to do great work for Thee, my hand Is far too weak! Thou givest what may suit— Some little chips to cut with care minute, Or tint, or grave, or polish. Others stand Before their quarried marble fair and grand, And make a life work of the great design Which Thou hast traced; or, many-skilled, combine To build vast temples, gloriously planned. Yet take the tiny stones which I have wrought, Just one by one, as they were given by Thee, Not knowing what came next in Thy wise thought. Set each stone by Thy master-hand of grace, Form the mosaic as Thou wilt for me, And in Thy temple-pavement give it place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CINQUAIN: SUSANNA AND THE ELDERS by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE BEGINNER by RUDYARD KIPLING LACHRYMAE MUSARUM (THE DEATH OF TENNYSON) by WILLIAM WATSON THE WELFORD WEDDING by ELIZABETH FRANCES AMHERST GETHSEMANE by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS PLEA FOR TOLERANCE by MARGARET E. BRUNER BALLAD OF UNCLE JOE by ALICE CARY |