Guido Sebaldi Poem by Cicely Fox Smith

Guido Sebaldi the mason
Worked at a house of stone:
Guido Sebaldi the mason
Sand at his work alone.

Till a stranger, he said unto him
As he hammer'd the stone one day'
'Guido Sebaldi the mason,
Hark to the words I say!'

'Leave thou this work, fit only
For oxen that draw the plough:
No longer Sebaldi the mason,
Guido the sculptor thou!'

Then Guido Sebaldi the mason
Look'd on his work in shame.
And 'Lo,' he said, 'I am lusty,
I will build me a noble name.'

Guido Sebaldi the sculptor
Toil'd till his heart grew sore.
Guido Sebaldi the sculptor
Sang at his work no more.

Vainly Sebaldi the mason
Hammer'd the senseless stone.
Vainly Sebaldi the mason
Sigh'd at his work alone.

His hands were ready and skillful,
And his days with toil were rife,
But the soul of the master was needed
To waken the stone to life.

Sadly Sebaldi the mason
Went back to the house of stone;
And his brow once more grew cheery
As he sat at his work alone.

But yet he was always thinking
Of hopes that were long since o'er;
And Guido Sebaldi the mason
Sang at his work no more.