Aelemaehus the Monk.
How well he wrought who stood
Against an ancient wrong,
And left the spangles of his blood
To light the sky of song!
A gladiatorial show,
And eighty thousand men
For savage pastime all aglow--
O marvel there and then!
An unknown monk, his life
Defenseless, interposed,
Forbade the old barbaric strife--
The red arena closed!
That unrecovered rout!
Those fire-shafts from the Sun!
O Telemaque! who, who shall doubt
Thy Master's will was done?
The deeds of Washington
Were lit with patriot flame;
A crown for Liberty he won,
And won undying fame.
He heard his country's cry,
He heard her bugle-call,
'Twas sweet to live for her, or die;
Her cause was all in all.
He heard the psalm of peace,
He sought again the plow;
O civic toil, canst thou increase
The laurels for his brow?
As with a father's hand
He led the infant state;
Colossus of his native land,
He still is growing great.
Lincoln.
God placed on Lincoln's brow
A sad, majestic crown;
All enmity is friendship now,
And martyrdom renown.
A mighty-hearted man,
He toiled at Freedom's side,
And lived, as only heroes can,
The truth in which he died.
Like Moses, eyes so dim,
All signs he could not spell;
Yet he endured, as seeing Him
Who is invisible.
His life was under One
"Who made and loveth all;"
And when his mighty work was done,
How grand his coronal!