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162
A BUST IN CLAY.
S. P. C.
A noble soul is breathing from the clay,Created, Sculptor, with a soul by thee;
A noble soul a noble man's must be:
One of a few, he knelt not to the Day
Nor petty stampings of the applausive Hour,
But, in the dark of her uprising light,
Upheld in word and served in deed the Right,
Nor sued the million-headed mob for power.
O beautiful! on the calm lips, content,
Breathes the high presence of a life well spent;
Such brows the centuries love! No marble needs
His soul that carves itself in marble deeds:
Oh, be it long—Ohio's prayer my own—
Ere clay or marble keeps that soul, alone!
January, 1859.
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