Outlived

Not alone the trembling stars
Glimmering through their cloudy bars;
Not alone yon mountain height
Firm in adamantine might;
Not alone the rolling seas
Dread with awful mysteries;
Nor the green earth, lying fair
Under smiling depths of air;
Nor the lofty towers that man,
Strong to do and wise to plan,
Hath reared proudly, stone by stone,
To the heavens--not these alone
Have outlived thee, thou whose dust
Earth hath held in sacred trust,
While a century hath shed
Countless blooms above thy head.
Thou art dust, but toys remain
Fragile as a daisy-chain;
Trifles light as thistle-down
Or the dandelion’s crown!
Here’s the cup that held your wine,
Frail and flower-like, thin and fine;
Here’s the beaker whose slight rim
Reddened when you kissed the brim;
Here’s the glass that held your face
Mirrored in its curving grace;
Linen wrought with dainty care;
Laces delicate as air;
Letters where your name is set,
Holding subtle fragrance yet;--
Thou art dust, while toys remain
Fragile as a daisy-chain!