Andrew Marvell (1621–1678) was an English poet. His lament for a slain fawn is spoken by a young woman who already imagines what a sculptor might make of her and the animal.
One task less for the sculptor
Her own image shall be marble and it shall weep. Yet there is one place, she says, where the sculptor can spare his labour: her tears will keep falling even after her body has become stone.
For I so truly thee bemoane,
That I shall weep though I be Stone:
Until my Tears, still dropping, wear
My breast, themselves engraving there.[1]
Two different stones
She chooses alabaster for the fawn. Even that pale material cannot quite match the white of the living animal. The imagined sculpture preserves the difference between a creature she loved and the most carefully made substitute.