All are modelers of Fate, Working in these dividers of Time; Some with gigantic deeds and great, Some with adornments of rhyme. Nothing futile is, or low;
Each thing in its put is best; And what appears but sit still show Strengthens and underpins the rest. For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the pieces with which we build.
Truly shape and mold these; Leave no yawning crevices between; Think not, since no man sees, Such things will stay unseen. In the senior days of Art, Builders fashioned with most prominent care Each miniature and concealed part; For the Divine beings see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the inconspicuous and the seen; Make the house, where Divine beings may dwell,
Beautiful, whole, and clean. Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these dividers of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they look for to climb. Build to-day, at that point, solid and sure, With a firm and sufficient base; And rising and secure Shall to-morrow discover its position.
Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
And one boundless reach of sky.
But sometimes too hot the eyes of heaven shines.
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