Concerning Jesus: I

If thou hadst been a sculptor, what a race
Of forms divine had thenceforth filled the land!
Methinks I see thee, glorious workman, stand,
Striking a marble window through blind space--
Thy face's reflex on the coming face,
As dawns the stone to statue 'neath thy hand--
Body obedient to its soul's command,
Which is thy thought, informing it with grace!
So had it been. But God, who quickeneth clay,
Nor turneth it to marble--maketh eyes,
Not shadowy hollows, where no sunbeams play--
Would mould his loftiest thought in human guise:
Thou didst appear, walking unknown abroad,
God's living sculpture, all-informed of God.