ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
1865.
REST, rest for him whose noble work is done;
For him who led us gently unaware
Till we were readier to do and dare
For Freedom, and her hundred fields were won.
For him who led us gently unaware
Till we were readier to do and dare
For Freedom, and her hundred fields were won.
His march is ended where his march began:
More sweet his sleep for toil and sacrifice
And that rare wisdom whose beginning lies
In fear of God and charity for man:
More sweet his sleep for toil and sacrifice
And that rare wisdom whose beginning lies
In fear of God and charity for man:
And sweetest for the tender faith that grew
More strong in trial, and through doubt more clear,
Seeing in clouds and darkness One appear
In whose dread name the Nation's sword he drew.
More strong in trial, and through doubt more clear,
Seeing in clouds and darkness One appear
In whose dread name the Nation's sword he drew.
Rest, rest for him; and rest for us to-day
Whose sorrow shook the land from east to west
When slain by Treason, on the Nation's breast
Her martyr breathed his steadfast soul away.
Whose sorrow shook the land from east to west
When slain by Treason, on the Nation's breast
Her martyr breathed his steadfast soul away.
O fervent heart! O cool and patient head!
O shoulders broad to bear all others' blame!
Mercy disguised herself beneath his name,
And Justice through his lips like Pity plead.
O shoulders broad to bear all others' blame!
Mercy disguised herself beneath his name,
And Justice through his lips like Pity plead.
His truth could snare the wiliest of the earth;
His wit outweigh the ponderous debate;
By sneers unvexed, in triumph unelate,
He stood our chief in place, our chief in worth.
His wit outweigh the ponderous debate;
By sneers unvexed, in triumph unelate,
He stood our chief in place, our chief in worth.
Behold, O kingdoms of the world, behold,
O mighty powers beyond the swelling wave,
How fast as rain on his untitled grave
The tears of millions mingle with the mould!
O mighty powers beyond the swelling wave,
How fast as rain on his untitled grave
The tears of millions mingle with the mould!
Such love a prince might crave, such homage seek;
The people's love that clothed him like a king,
The grateful trust those hands were swift to bring
Whose broken fetters of deliverance speak.
The people's love that clothed him like a king,
The grateful trust those hands were swift to bring
Whose broken fetters of deliverance speak.
Four years ago unknown—to-day how dear!
Four years that tried him with a century's strain,
While Treason led his wretched hosts in vain
And turned Assassin when his doom was near.
Four years that tried him with a century's strain,
While Treason led his wretched hosts in vain
And turned Assassin when his doom was near.
Four little years whose space a thought may span;
A niche in Time's vast hall where he doth stand,
To win applause in every age and land,
"The noblest work of God—an honest man."
A niche in Time's vast hall where he doth stand,
To win applause in every age and land,
"The noblest work of God—an honest man."