The human face is a study to me And always will continue to be; Some faces are moulded with such a perfect grace As a sculptor would chisel a marble face; Some are moulded with such a perfect line By the great sculptor all sacred and divine; Some faces look old, haggard, and worn While others a pitiful sight all forlorn, The freshness and bloom of youth is not there Life had been filled with toil and care. The brows are furrowed with lines of care And showing there has been sorrow there; Some from dissipation have grown old Their faces look hard, slim, and cold. Some look old but a freshness is there Showing happiness, love and care; A sculptor can take the plastic clay And mould a face in his own way. One thing he is helpless and powerless to do Though he may rise to fame as some sculptors do, Though he may reach the highest goal He never can mould the living soul. The sculptor who moulds the living face With lines of sympathy, poise, and grace, Is the human sculptor all divine Who understands each defect and line. Our faces are moulded to fit the soul That dwells in the body young or old. Let's keep that body from stain and sin And let God's beauty and love shine in. The eyes are windows of the soul Whether they be young or old. Let them reflect beauty and love As would our Father in heaven above, Instead of anger, hate, and greed Which the soul of the miser daily feed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MUSIC by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET FAITH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO RICHARD R. WRIGHT - INSTRUCTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BROTHERHOOD (2) by EDWIN MARKHAM OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON GIRL IN A CAGE by CARL SANDBURG |