The Poets' Lincoln Part 22

Members on the pavement: Left (1) Hon. Schuyler Colfax, Speaker of the House; (2) Hon. R. C. Schenck, Ohio; (3) Hon. Lyman Trumbull, Illinois; (4) Hon. Charles E. Phelps, Maryland; (5) Hon. W. H. Wallace, Idaho; (6) Hon. Joseph Baily, Pennsylvania; (7) Hon. James K. Morehead, Pennsylvania; (8) Hon. Sidney Clarke, Kansas; (9) Hon. Samuel Hooper, Ma.s.sachusetts; (10) Hon. E. B.

Washburn, Illinois; (11) Hon. Thomas W. Ferry, Michigan; (12) Hon. Thomas B. Shannon, California; (13) S. G. Ordway, Sergeant-at-Arms of the House.

Members in the yard: Left (1) Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, Illinois; (2) Hon. John B. Henderson, Missouri; (3) Hen. Richard Yates, Illinois; (4) Hon. James W. Nye, Nevada; (5) Hon. Henry S. Lane, Indiana; (6) Hon. George H. Williams, Oregon; (7) Hon. George T.

Brown, Sergeant-at-Arms of the Senate; (8) Hon. William A.

Newell, New Jersey.]

William Allen, D.D., born 1784, died 1868. Graduated at Harvard, 1802.

President Dartmouth College, 1816-1819, Bowdoin College, 1820-1839. He was the father of American Biography, published various volumes of poems; as a philologist, he contributed many thousands of words and definitions to Webster and Worcester's dictionaries. He was leader of the American delegation to the National Peace Congress at Versailles in 1849.

SPRINGFIELD'S WELCOME TO LINCOLN

Lincoln! thy country's father, hail!

We bid thee welcome, but bewail; Welcome unto thy chosen home-- Triumphant, glorious, dost thou come.

Before the enemy struck the blow That laid thee in a moment low, G.o.d gave thy wish: It was to see Our Union safe, our country free.

A country where the gospel truth Shall reach the hearts of age and youth, And move unchained, in majesty, A model land of liberty!

When Jacob's bones, from Egypt borne, Regained their home, the people mourn; Great mourning then at Ephron's cave, Both Abraham's and Isaac's grave.

Far greater is the mourning now; For our land one emblem wide of woe; And where thy coffin car appears Do not the people throng in tears?

Thy triumph of a thousand miles, Like eastern conqueror with his spoils-- A million hearts thy captives led, All weeping for their chieftain dead.

Thy chariot, moved with eagle speed Without the aid of prancing steed, Has brought thee to that destined tomb; Springfield, thy home, will give thee room.

Lincoln, the martyr, welcome home!

What lessons blossom on thy tomb!

In G.o.d's pure truth and law delight; With firm, unwavering soul do right.

Be condescending, kind and just; In G.o.d's wise counsels put thy trust; Let no proud soul e'er dare rebel, Moved by vile pa.s.sions sprung from h.e.l.l.

Come, sleep with us in sweet repose, Till we, as Christ from death arose, Still in His glorious image rise To dwell with him beyond the skies.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STATE CAPITOL, ILLINOIS, 1865]

The body of the President lay in state in the Capitol, Springfield, Illinois--which was very richly draped--from May 3 to May 4, when it was removed to Oak Ridge Cemetery.

Lucy Hamilton Hooper, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, January 20, 1835. In conjunction with Charles G. Leland she edited _Our Daily Fare_, the daily chronicle of the Philadelphia Sanitary Fair in 1864.

She was a.s.sistant editor of _Lippincott's Magazine_ from its foundation until she went to Europe in 1870. In 1874 she settled in Paris and since has been correspondent for various journals in this country. She has published _Poems, with Translations from the German_ (Philadelphia, 1864), another volume of _Poems_ (1871); a translation of _Le Nabob_, by Alphonse Daudet (Boston, 1879); and _Under the Tricolor_, a novel (Philadelphia, 1880). She died August 31, 1893.

LINCOLN

There is a shadow on the sunny air, There is a darkness o'er the April day, We bow our heads beneath this awful cloud So sudden come, and not to pa.s.s away.

O the wild grief that sweeps across our land From frozen Maine to Californian sh.o.r.e!

A people's tears, an orphaned nation's wail, For him the good, the great, who is no more.

The n.o.blest brain that ever toiled for man, The kindest heart that ever thrilled a breast, The lofty soul unstained by soil of earth, Sent by a traitor to a martyr's rest.

And his last act (O gentle, kindly heart!) The n.o.ble prompting of unselfish grace.

He would not disappoint the waiting crowd Who came to gaze upon his honored face.

O G.o.d, thy ways are just, and yet we find This dispensation hard to understand.

Why must our Prophet's weary feet be stay'd Upon the borders of the Promised Land?

He bore the heat, the burden of the day, The golden eventide he shall not see; He shall not see the old flag wave again Over a land united, saved, and free.

He loved his people, and he ever lent To all our griefs a sympathizing ear; Now for the first time in these four sad years The stricken nation wails--he does not hear.

O never wept a land a n.o.bler Chief!

Kind heart, strong hand, true soul--yet, while we weep Let us remember, e'en amid our tears, 'Tis G.o.d who gives to his beloved sleep.

So sleeps he now, the chosen man of G.o.d, No more shall care or sorrow wring his breast; The weary one and heavy laden, lies Hushed by the voice of G.o.d to endless rest.

We need no solemn knell, no tolling bells, No chanted dirge, no vain words sadly said.

The saddest knell that ever stirred the air Rang in those words, "Our President is dead!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: PUBLIC VAULT, OAK RIDGE CEMETERY, SPRINGFIELD, ILL.,

On the day of Lincoln's funeral]

The remains of President Lincoln were deposited in this receiving vault of Oak Ridge Cemetery, Springfield, Illinois, on the 4th of May, 1865, where they remained until December 21, 1865, when they were removed to a temporary vault near the site of the public one. On September 19, 1871, the remains were removed to the monument which had been erected and which stands on the top of the hill in that cemetery back of the public vault. The remains of Mrs. Lincoln, Willie and Thomas (Tad), are also resting there.

LET THE PRESIDENT SLEEP

_By James M. Stewart_

Let the President sleep! all his duty is done, He has lived for our glory, the triumph is won; At the close of the fight, like a warrior brave, He retires from the field to the rest of the grave.