A Potter, playing with his lump of clay,
Fashioned an image of supremest worth.
“_Never was nobler image made on earth,
Than this that I have fashioned of my clay.
And I, of mine own skill, did fashion it,–
I–from this lump of clay_.”
The Master, looking out on Pots and Men,
Heard his vain boasting, smiled at that he said.
“_The clay is Mine, and I the Potter made,
As I made all things,–stars, and clay, and men.
In what doth this man overpass the rest?
–Be thou as other men_!”
He touched the Image,–and it fell to dust,
He touched the Potter,–he to dust did fall.
Gently the Master,–“_I did make them all,–
All things and men, heaven’s glories, and the dust.
Who with Me works shall quicken death itself,
Without Me–dust is dust_.”
(John Oxenham)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Heaven Poems, Work & Career Poems, Fashion PoemsBased on Keywords: overpass, master-, i-from