. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. Life Sculpture George Washington Doane(Born May 27, 1799; Died April 27, 1839 I Courtesy, New England Magazine Chisel in hand stood a sculptor boyWith his marble block before him, And his eyes lit up with a smile of joy,As an angel-dream passed oer him. He carved the dream on that shapeless stone, With many a sharp incision;With heavens own light the sculpture shone. Hed caught that angel-vision. Children of life are we, as we standWith our lives uncarved before us, Waiting the hour when, at Gods command,Our life-dream shall pass oer
. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. Life Sculpture George Washington Doane(Born May 27, 1799; Died April 27, 1839 I Courtesy, New England Magazine Chisel in hand stood a sculptor boyWith his marble block before him, And his eyes lit up with a smile of joy,As an angel-dream passed oer him. He carved the dream on that shapeless stone, With many a sharp incision;With heavens own light the sculpture shone. Hed caught that angel-vision. Children of life are we, as we standWith our lives uncarved before us, Waiting the hour when, at Gods command,Our life-dream shall pass oer us. If we carve it then on the yielding stone, With many a sharp incision,Its heavenly beauty shall be our own,— Our lives, that angel-vision. Page One Hundred and Thirty-six d&tts ]B,mtbvzb. ttttit <&xtz ^ztmxtns ^jhratts. The Choir Invisible George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans) (Bom November 22, 1819; Died December22, 1880) Oh, may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence; live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge mens search To vaster issues. So to live is heaven: To make undying music in the world, Breathing a beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man. So we inherit that sweet purity For which we struggled, failed, and agonized With widening retrospect that bred despair. Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued, A vicious parent shaming still its child, Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved; Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies, Die in the large and charitable air. And all our rarer, better, truer self, That sobbed religiously in yearning s
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