MIDNIGHT, SEPTEMBER 19, 1881.
87
He speaks to crowded faces—round him surge
Thousands and millions of excited men:
He hears them cheer—sees some vast light emerge—
Is borne as on a tempest—thenah, then,
The fancies fade, the fever's work is past;
A deepened pang, then recollection's thrill;
He feels the faithful lips that kiss their last.
His heart beats once in answer, and is still!
The curtain falls: but hushed, as if afraid,
The people wait, tear-stained, with heaving breast;
'Twill rise again, they know, when he is laid
With Freedom, in the Capitol, at rest.
