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!