See how the living slumber as they walk.

Not blind. A sleeping lies

Behind the puzzled, eyes,

And. blurs the word's edge when they talk.

Not blind, but blundering through the dark.

What flesh and blood can make

Is not whole man until a spark

Brings him awake.

God thrusts a hand obscurely

Into the sleeper's heart,

Tumbles his thought apart,

Till man knows nothing surely.

Better the biting flame

Than life not worth the name.

Then God., the artist's God, commands

And is not disobeyed,

Rebuild with your bare hands

The chaos I have made."

God the Creator, God of plan,

God Who builds and is never satisfied -

This is the God can wake a man,

Open his eyes and leave them wide.