Sunday Poem ~ The Master’s Touch

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The Master’s Touch

In the still air the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty hides unseen;
To wake the music and beauty, needs
The master’s tough, the sculptor’s chisel keen.

Great Master, touch us with Thy skillful 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 nought unfinished, broken, marred!
Complete Thy purpose, that we may become
The perfect image, O our God and Lord!

~ Horatius Bonar

Possibly Related posts:

1. Sunday Poem ~ A Single Stitch
2. Sunday Poem ~ What Christians Have
3. Sunday Story ~ The Flawed Pot
4. Sunday Poem ~ What God Hath Promised
5. Sunday Poem ~ Keep Easter in Your Heart

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