I was moved by the following excerpt from Carl Sandburg's Bronzes as I am frequently walking (or running) through Lincoln Park. The statues are with us still as reminders of heroes from the past. We also have Sandburg's poetry as a memorial remembering these men and their deeds.
I cross Lincoln Park on a winter night when the snow
Lincoln in bronze stands among the white lines of snow,
his bronze forehead meeting soft echoes of the newsies
crying forty thousand men are dead along the
Yser, his bronze ears listening to the mumbled roar
of the city at his bronze feet.
A lithe Indian on a bronze pony, Shakespeare seated with
long legs in bronze, Garibaldi in a bronze cape, they
hold places in the cold, lonely snow to-night on their
pedestals and so they will hold them past midnight
and into the dawn.
From Bronzes by Carl Sandburg
The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg by Carl Sandburg. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, New York. 2003