Tuesday, June 03, 2008


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 that 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.

F R Havergal


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