Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1867-04-12
Unseen, Yet Seem
ANONYMOUS.

have read some where in thoughtful book,
OF all old cathedrnl over the sea,
4 wonder OF art whose every nook
Is full of charming mystery
That up, high up, On the tOpmOst point
OF bOf, and tower, and belfry gray,
Which the gracions summer dews anoint,
And the birds frequent in an airy way,
There are marvels OF sculpture, rare and tine,
Flowers, and fruit, and trai ing vine,
And low ly angels, with folded wings,
ut from the stone, like living things,
Aud Uure Mai.I.n 5, and saints at prayer
With rev6rent heads aud flowing hair,
Col s.sal figures by height dimin sh'd,
With every lineamc Mt finely finished.
Yet all this delicate tracery
Was not for the eyes OF mortal made,
For none but God a d his angels see
The marvellous sculpture there displayd.
Who was the artist whose chisel wrought
'ntO exqu site work such exquisite thO1ghtr
Why did he labor, for Years and years,
through days of anxiety, nights OF tears,
Under the stars and under the moon,
Dreaming designing, at morn and noon,
To work Ihcs.. wonders wood and stone?
Whicl God and his angels alone?
God U,td his dngclst i}ehold the key
TO this strange, unw"rldv mystery.
That grand Old artist. mounted on high,
Like an eagle perChed in his eyrie lonely,
Working with hand, aud heart and eye,
Working for God anu his angels only.
No mean, sef-cOnscious motive stirrd
And praise ! Censure alike unheard,
In his chaste comr2unings had no part.
Far. far below him the world was spread
Like Il pIintc picture, small and dim,
And the voice of creatures, the rush and tread
OF the III ghty milli ms, were lost on him
While the skies hc.t over him, blue and broad,
So fIiI, Of the awful. unseen God
Heaven seemed so nca q, earth so far,
No 81 fish thought could his labor mar,
All What = lovely moral lies
HID ike the delicate tracery,
On roof and towers, and belfry high,
OF the old Cathedral over the sea
'Tis worth an infinite treasure TO know
(Whatever bt side shou d be unknown
How utterly false and mean wO grow
When work for tie eye" Of men alone.
How blind and aching our sight b. comes
With the glare Of glory such works may win
While selfish purpose llaTrOws and nunlbs
AL that is noble and fresh within US.
lis Only When elf le dead and gone,
And our souls from the mist Of passion free,
That thu angels Of God come in and cro7n
Our abuEs with immortality!
o, artists who work with pencil or pon,
It'll chisel or brush for the praise OF men,
When you fold your hands at the twilight's close,
Aud muse i'll your darkeIed studies,
Do you never consider, one and all,
How that other and deeper night must tall
" hen earth and the things thereof shall be
Lost. hike a dream, in Eternity?
When, shrinking and startled, with sOnl laid bare,
The creature shall meet the c. eat" there,
And learn at the foot of the Great White Throne
{ The Truth which should never have been IN
known,
That nothing avails lis under the sun,
In word or in work, save that which is done
For the honor and glory OF God alone!
Oh! blessed indeed are the pure of heart,
For they shall see God in their glorious art;
And Joyous shall be (tho the world wax dim)
If noue shall behold him save Him, save Him.
And these are the sculptors whose works shall
last,
Whose names shall shine like the stars on
high,
When deep in the dust of ruined past
The labors of selfish souls should lie.
O. artists, who rk with pencil or pen,
With chisel OF brush, for the praise of men,
Whatecr We design, whatever ye do,
Seek first the kingdom of God, al then
All else shall be graci usly added you.
And the moral is ours, which was sent to me
From the old Cathedral over the sea.