The Transformation
http://www.mormonblog.com/articles/28/1/146/The-Transformation.html
Eliza R. Snow
Although she died more than 120 years ago, celebrated Mormon poet Eliza R. Snow continues to capture the heart of Mormon believers. Born in Massachusetts in 1805, she joined the church in 1835 and moved to Kirtland, Ohio. Eliza was devoted to the gospel and used her literary talent to teach, testify and record important events. The poems reproduced here are from her first published book, Poems: Religious, Political, Historical, printed in 1856. By Eliza R. Snow
Published on 05/2/2008
In this poem, Sister Snow reveals the power of education in transforming our undeveloped, rudimentary minds into the polished gem of wisdom. Each of us is, beneath the surface, a beautiful gem that can only be revealed in its true splendor through the pursuit of knowledge.
or The Tool and the Gem
In this poem, Sister Snow reveals the power of education in transforming our undeveloped, rudimentary minds into the polished gem of wisdom. Each of us is, beneath the surface, a beautiful gem that can only be revealed in its true splendor through the pursuit of knowledge.
I saw a thing of rudest form,
From mountain's base brought forth--
A useless gem--devoid of charm,
And wrapp'd in cumbrous earth.
Its rough exterior met the eye,
With a repulsive show;
For every charm was forc'd to lie
In buried depths below.
The Sculptor came. I wonder'd when
His pliant tool was brought;
He pass'd it o'er the gem, and then
I mark'd the change it wrought.
Each cumbrance from its surface clear'd--
The gem expos'd to view--
Its nature and its worth appear'd,
Its form expansive grew.
By gentle strokes it was set free--
By softer touch refin'd;
Till beauty, grace, and majesty
Were with its nature join'd.
Its listre kindled to a blaze--
'Twas Wisdom's lamp begun;
And soon the splendor of its rays
Eclips'd the noon-day sun.
That gem was chain'd in crudeness, til
The Sculptor lent his aid;
I wonder'd at the ready skill
His potent hand display'd
It was the virtue of his tool,
Of fine, transforming edge;
Which serv'd for pencil, mold, and rule,
For polisher and sledge.
That tool requires a skilful hand--
That gem no chain should bind;
That tool is Education, and
That gem, the Human Mind.
I saw a thing of rudest form,
From mountain's base brought forth--
A useless gem--devoid of charm,
And wrapp'd in cumbrous earth.
Its rough exterior met the eye,
With a repulsive show;
For every charm was forc'd to lie
In buried depths below.
The Sculptor came. I wonder'd when
His pliant tool was brought;
He pass'd it o'er the gem, and then
I mark'd the change it wrought.
Each cumbrance from its surface clear'd--
The gem expos'd to view--
Its nature and its worth appear'd,
Its form expansive grew.
By gentle strokes it was set free--
By softer touch refin'd;
Till beauty, grace, and majesty
Were with its nature join'd.
Its listre kindled to a blaze--
'Twas Wisdom's lamp begun;
And soon the splendor of its rays
Eclips'd the noon-day sun.
That gem was chain'd in crudeness, til
The Sculptor lent his aid;
I wonder'd at the ready skill
His potent hand display'd
It was the virtue of his tool,
Of fine, transforming edge;
Which serv'd for pencil, mold, and rule,
For polisher and sledge.
That tool requires a skilful hand--
That gem no chain should bind;
That tool is Education, and
That gem, the Human Mind.