This blade once burnished, undefiled,
flashed in pine like a mirror,
whittling figures with dabbling zeal
and honest error.
Look at it now: nicked and stained
from hacking coin. No supple wood
mottled it with this mortal rust,
this mettle's blood.
William F Dougherty
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/steel-with-stigmas/
