At The Farragut Statue

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To live a hero, then to stand
  In bronze serene above the city's throng;
Hero at sea, and now on land
  Revered by thousands as they rush along;
If these were all the gifts of fame—
  To be a shade amid alert reality,
And win a statue and a name—
  How cold and cheerless immortality!

But when the sun shines in the Square,
  And multitudes are swarming in the street,
Children are always gathered there,
  Laughing and playing round the hero's feet.

© Robert Seymour Bridges