Classic Poem

(a brown sculptor, after viewing the bust of his " Tortured Negro " )

O eyes of youth,
From out those yearning depths,
What seest thou?
Dost vision souls
A'tremble with desire
To break the bonds of flesh,
And woo the Sculptor's magic touch,
Living anew — immortalized
In bronze?

O deft, sure hands,
Full eager to create,
Dream visions of centuries gone by,
Tone-masters, heroes,
And lamented bard?
Or the tortured visage
Of thine own blood and kind,
Writhing, helpless,
In Freedom's galling bonds?
What shapest thou?