I <br /> <br />The bronze General Grant riding a bronze horse in Linc- <br />oln Park <br />Shrivels in the sun by day when the motor cars whirr <br />by in long processions going somewhere to keep ap- <br />pointment for dinner and matineés and buying and <br />selling <br />Though in the dusk and nightfall when high waves are <br />piling <br />On the slabs of the promenade along the lake shore near <br />by <br />I have seen the general dare the combers come closer <br />And make to ride his bronze horse out into the hoofs <br />and guns of the storm. <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />I cross Lincoln Park on a winter night when the snow <br />is falling. <br />Lincoln in bronze stands among the white lines of snow, <br />his bronze forehead meeting soft echoes of the new- <br />sies crying forty thousand men are dead along the <br />Yser, his bronze ears listening to the mumbled roar <br />of the city at his bronze feet. <br />A lithe Indian on a bronze pony, Shakespeare seated with <br />long legs in bronze, Garibaldi in a bronze cape, they <br />hold places in the cold, lonely snow to-night on their <br />pedestals and so they will hold them past midnight <br />and into the dawn.<br /><br />Carl Sandburg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bronzes/
