The Master’s Touch (Bonar)

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 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 what Thou wilt;

Let there be naught un­fin­ished

brok­en

marred;

Complete Thy pur­pose that we may be­come

Thy per­fect im­age

O our God and Lord.