The Poets' Lincoln - LightNovelsOnl.com
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See, they come as a cloud, Hearts of a mighty people, Bearing his pall and shroud; Lifting up, like a banner, Signals of loss and woe; Wonder of breathless nations, Moveth the solemn show.
Tolling, tolling, tolling!
Was it, O man beloved, Was it thy funeral only Over the land that moved?
[Ill.u.s.tration: ROTUNDA, CITY HALL, NEW YORK, N. Y.]
The remains of President Lincoln lay in state in the City Hall, New York, from noon April 24 to noon April 25, 1865. Visitors were admitted to view the remains, pa.s.sing through the Hall two abreast.
Singing societies sang dirges in the rotunda the night through.
Richard Storrs Willis was born in Boston, Ma.s.sachusetts, February 10, 1819, was graduated at Yale in 1841, and adopted literature as his profession. He has published musical and other poems; has edited the _New York Musical World_ and _Once a Week_, and contributed also to current literature. He wrote the following:
REQUIEM OF LINCOLN
Now wake the requiem's solemn moan, For him whose patriot task is done!
A nation's heart stands still today With horror, o'er his martyred clay!
O, G.o.d of Peace, repress the ire, Which fills our souls with vengeful fire!
Vengeance is Thine--and sovereign might, Alone, can such a crime requite!
Farewell, thou good and guileless heart!
The manliest tears for thee must start!
E'en those at times who blamed thee here, Now deeply sorrow o'er thy bier.
O, Jesus, grant him sweet repose, Who, like Thee, seemed to love his foes!
Those foes, like Thine, their wrath to spend, Have slain their best, their firmest friend.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ST. JAMES HALL, BUFFALO, N. Y.]
The funeral train bearing the remains of President Lincoln reached Buffalo, New York, on Thursday morning, the 27th of April. The body was taken from the funeral car and borne by soldiers up to St. James'
Hall, where it was placed under a c.r.a.pe canopy, extending from the ceiling to the floor. The Buffalo St. Cecilia Society sang with deep pathos the dirge "Rest, Spirit, Rest," the society then placed an elegantly formed harp, made of choice white flowers, at the head of the coffin, as a tribute from them to the honored dead. The public were admitted to view the remains, and the following day the remains reached Cleveland, Ohio.
James Nicoll Johnston was born in Ardee, County Donegal, Ireland. When two years of age the family moved to Cashelmore, Sheephaven Bay, County Donegal. In 1847 they moved to America. He was then between fifteen and sixteen years of age. In 1848 they settled at Buffalo, New York, which has been his home until the present time.
He has published two editions of _Donegal Memories_, also two editions of _Donegal Memories and Other Poems_, and a volume of Buffalo verse collected by him under the t.i.tle of _Poets and Poetry of Buffalo_. He a.s.sisted in collections of Buffalo local literature, also devoted much time to the production of publications of a philanthropic nature.
REQUIEM
Bear him to his Western home, Whence he came four years ago; Not beneath some Eastern dome, But where Freedom's airs may come, Where the prairie gra.s.ses grow, To the friends who loved him so,
Take him to his quiet rest; Toll the bell and fire the gun; He who served his Country best, He whom millions loved and bless'd, Now has fame immortal won; Rack of brain and heart is done.
Shed thy tears, O April rain, O'er the tomb wherein he sleeps!
Wash away the b.l.o.o.d.y stain!
Drape the skies in grief, O rain!
Lo! a nation with thee weeps, Grieving o'er her martyred slain.
To the people whence he came, Bear him gently back again, Greater his than victor's fame: His is now a sainted name; Never ruler had such gain-- Never people had such pain.
[Ill.u.s.tration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN
Photograph taken in 1863 by Brady]
Oliver Wendell Holmes, born in Cambridge, Ma.s.s., August 29, 1809. To him belongs the credit of saving the frigate Const.i.tution from destruction, by a poem--_Aye, Tear the Battered Ensign Down_. He died August 7, 1894.
SERVICES IN MEMORY OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN
(_City of Boston, June 1, 1865_)
O Thou of soul and sense and breath, The ever-present Giver, Unto Thy mighty angel, death, All flesh Thou didst deliver; What most we cherish, we resign, For life and death alike are Thine, Who reignest Lord forever!
Our hearts lie buried in the dust With him, so true and tender, The patriot's stay, the people's trust, The s.h.i.+eld of the offender; Yet every murmuring voice is still, As, bowing to Thy sovereign will, Our best loved we surrender.
Dear Lord, with pitying eye behold This martyr generation, Which Thou, through trials manifold, Art showing Thy salvation!
O let the blood by murder spilt Wash out Thy stricken children's guilt, And sanctify our Nation!
Be Thou Thy orphaned Israel's friend, Forsake Thy people never, In one our broken many blend, That none again may sever!
Hear us, O Father, while we raise With trembling lips our song of praise, And bless Thy name forever!
[Ill.u.s.tration: LINCOLN HOMESTEAD, MAY 4, 1865
Photographed by F. W. Ingmire on the day of the funeral, with the members of the National Committee appointed to accompany the remains to Springfield, Illinois.
