Classic Poem

What those still lips have eloquently said
Over the nation's wise and mighty dead,
May well be blended for his eulogy.
Could one more truthful or sublimer be?

Soon will the sculptor vex his cunning skill
To fix in marble what he moulds in will;
But yet what thousands have outstript his art,
And crowned a cenotaph within the heart.

What rich material! Oh, how strong and white
Must be the deeds that reach immortal height!
In countless hearts do such memorials rise,
And there love wreathes them, with uplifted eyes.