CHISEL in hand stood a sculptor boy,

With his marble block before him: - And his face lit up with a smile of joy As an angel dream passed o'er him. He carved that dream on the yielding stone

With many a sharp incision; In heaven's own light the sculptor shone. He had caught that angel vision.

Sculptors of life are we, as we stand,

With our lives uncarved before us; Waiting the hour when, at God's command,

Our life dream passes o'er us. Let us carve it then on the yielding stone,

With many a sharp incision: - Its heavenly beauty shall be our own -

Our lives, that angel vision.

"a traveler through a dusty road."