1865

THE DEATH OF LINCOLN

by William Cullen Bryant

THE DEATH OF LINCOLN -

Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare,

Gentle and merciful and just!

Who, in the fear of God, didst bear

The sword of power, a nation's trust! -

In sorrow by thy bier we stand,

Amid the awe that hushes all,

And speak the anguish of a land

That shook with horror at thy fall. -

Thy task is done; the bond are free:

We bear thee to an honored grave,

Whose Proudest monument shall be

The broken fetters of the slave. -

Pure was thy life; its bloody close

Hath placed thee with the sons of light,

Among the noble host of those

Who perished in the cause of Right. - -