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In the still air
the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty
hides unseen.
To make the music
and the beauty needs
The Master’s touch,
the Sculptor’s chisel keen.
Great Master, touch us
with Thy skillful hands;
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 what Thou wilt;
Let there be naught unfinished,
broken, marred;
Complete Thy purpose
that we may become
Thy perfect image—
Thou our God and Lord.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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10 10 10 10
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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1919
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Bible Refs:
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Is 64:8;
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MUSIC
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Name:
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CONISBOROUGH
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Meter:
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10 10 10 10
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Writer(s):
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Dates:
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1919
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
