Poems (Howard)/Thought Cannot Die

by Hattie Howard

Thought Cannot Die.

The costly tablet man may rear,
 And on its polished face
With careful hand from year to year,
 His deeds of valor trace;
Proclaiming thus to human ken
 His worth and right to claim
Due homage from his fellow-men,
 And hope for lasting fame.

The storied temple he may build,
 And deck its altar-shrine
With handicraft, refined and skilled.
 And jewels from the mine;
May past unworthiness efface
 And make his glory sure,
By giving in its aisles a place
 To God's deserving poor.

His skill may make a palace-car
 Luxurious in ease,
While wind and wave shall bear afar
 His freighted argosies;
Some favored turn of Fortune's wheel
 The wealth of earth may pour
In coffers that shall scarce conceal
 Their overflowing store.

Upon the rough-hewn stepping-stones
 Of poverty and want
He may ascend, till kingly thrones
 His spirit shall not daunt;
For on his ladder's highest round,
 Proud monarchs shall revere
The hero true, by valor crowned,
 And own him as their peer.

But stately tower or battlement
 Shall yield to slow decay,
Bright honor, fame, emolument—
 All these shall pass away;
And, as alike o'er good and bad,
 The marble shaft shall rise,
This epitaph, suggestive, sad,
 Is written, "Here he lies!"

While he who frees a golden thought
 Upon the wings of Time
Hath unawares and wisely wrought
 A deed far more sublime;
For this shall live, beneficent,
 Inspiring hope and trust
When tower and fane and monument
 Have crumbled into dust.