Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/89

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MARBLE OR DUST?
A child, beside a statue, said to me,
With pretty wisdom very sadly just,
"That man is Mr. Lincoln, Mama. He
Was made of marble; we are made of dust."

One flash of passionate sorrow trembled through
The dust of which I had been dimly made,
One fierce, quick wish to be of marble too—
Not something meaner, that must fall and fade.

"To be for ever fair and still and cold,"
I faintly thought, with faint tears in my sight;
"To stand thus face to face with Time, and hold
Between us that uncrumbling charm of white;

"To see the creatures formed of slighter stuff
Waver in little dead-leaf whirls away,
Yet know that I could wait and have enough
Of frost and dew, enough of dark and day.