Who, mid his elements of being wrought,
We know not—Heaven can tell."
Almost twenty years have passed away since the imposing pageant at the laying of the corner-stone was displayed, and yet the monument is unfinished,
Still may Spring, and Summer, and
"Stormy Winter speak
Sternly of man's neglect
for the huge marble obelisk, as it came from the quarry, lies there yet, defaced and mutilated by rude hands, and silently appealing to local pride and general patriotism to sculpture its ornaments, and place it where it was designed to be. Year after year the dust of the plain has lodged upon the top of the half-finished pile, and the seeds of wild flowers have been borne thither upon the wings of the zephyrs; and where the base of the noble obelisk should rest, Nature, as if rebuking insensate man, hath woven green garlands, and hung flowery festoons. Upon the broad tablet whereon was to be inscribed the beautiful memorial, "Mary, the Mother of Washington," dark green fungi have made their humiliating record instead.