"In the still air the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty hides unseen;
To make the music and the beauty needs
A master's touch, the sculptor's chisel keen.
Great Master, touch us with Thy skilled hand:
Let not the music that is in us die!
Great Sculptor, hew and polish us, nor let
Hidden and lost, Thy form within us lie!
Spare not the stroke! Do with us as thou wilt!
Let there be naught unfinished, broken, marred;
Complete Thy purpose, that we may become
Thy perfect image, Thou our God and Lord!"