I am a tool in the Carpenter's hand,
And obedience only is mine.
Never a whit may I understand
The Carpenter's vast design.
Mine to stay if He bids me stay,
And go if He bids me go;
Mine to plod in the same dull way
Steadily to and fro.
Mine to present a handle firm,
And an edge that is sharp and true;
Mine to achieve in my destined term,
Just what He would have me do.
The Nazareth shop in the centuries dead
Has sunk from the sight of men.
O joy if my life by the Carpenter led,
May restore that shop again!