LINCOLN.
A young backwoodsman, tall and strong of limb,We find him in the wilds of Illinois,So brave, so faithful oft men said of him,“A man while yet a boy.”A man, indeed, while moving upward still,They gazed at his advance with wondering eyes,And saw his lofty aims, his steadfast will,With glad surprise.He reached the summit in a crucial hour,When clouds and darkness hung above the land,And proved himself to all a man of power,Who could command.He loved his country, not some special partMore dear than others, but the glorious whole.He gave to save the Union, all his heart,His brain, his soul.In one brief respite from the awful strain,The foul assassin’s bullet—then the end.And all the wide world mourned, and mourned in vain,The nation’s friend.But was it all in vain, when proudly wavesThe flag he loved—full starred—from shore to shore?When North and South clasp hands o’er heroes’ graves,Would he ask more?Mary Isabella Forsyth.The Christian Intelligencer.
A young backwoodsman, tall and strong of limb,We find him in the wilds of Illinois,So brave, so faithful oft men said of him,“A man while yet a boy.”A man, indeed, while moving upward still,They gazed at his advance with wondering eyes,And saw his lofty aims, his steadfast will,With glad surprise.He reached the summit in a crucial hour,When clouds and darkness hung above the land,And proved himself to all a man of power,Who could command.He loved his country, not some special partMore dear than others, but the glorious whole.He gave to save the Union, all his heart,His brain, his soul.In one brief respite from the awful strain,The foul assassin’s bullet—then the end.And all the wide world mourned, and mourned in vain,The nation’s friend.But was it all in vain, when proudly wavesThe flag he loved—full starred—from shore to shore?When North and South clasp hands o’er heroes’ graves,Would he ask more?Mary Isabella Forsyth.The Christian Intelligencer.
A young backwoodsman, tall and strong of limb,We find him in the wilds of Illinois,So brave, so faithful oft men said of him,“A man while yet a boy.”
A young backwoodsman, tall and strong of limb,
We find him in the wilds of Illinois,
So brave, so faithful oft men said of him,
“A man while yet a boy.”
A man, indeed, while moving upward still,They gazed at his advance with wondering eyes,And saw his lofty aims, his steadfast will,With glad surprise.
A man, indeed, while moving upward still,
They gazed at his advance with wondering eyes,
And saw his lofty aims, his steadfast will,
With glad surprise.
He reached the summit in a crucial hour,When clouds and darkness hung above the land,And proved himself to all a man of power,Who could command.
He reached the summit in a crucial hour,
When clouds and darkness hung above the land,
And proved himself to all a man of power,
Who could command.
He loved his country, not some special partMore dear than others, but the glorious whole.He gave to save the Union, all his heart,His brain, his soul.
He loved his country, not some special part
More dear than others, but the glorious whole.
He gave to save the Union, all his heart,
His brain, his soul.
In one brief respite from the awful strain,The foul assassin’s bullet—then the end.And all the wide world mourned, and mourned in vain,The nation’s friend.
In one brief respite from the awful strain,
The foul assassin’s bullet—then the end.
And all the wide world mourned, and mourned in vain,
The nation’s friend.
But was it all in vain, when proudly wavesThe flag he loved—full starred—from shore to shore?When North and South clasp hands o’er heroes’ graves,Would he ask more?Mary Isabella Forsyth.The Christian Intelligencer.
But was it all in vain, when proudly waves
The flag he loved—full starred—from shore to shore?
When North and South clasp hands o’er heroes’ graves,
Would he ask more?
Mary Isabella Forsyth.
The Christian Intelligencer.