[THE EYES OF LINCOLN]
| Sad eyes that were patient and tender, Sad eyes that were steadfast and true, And warm with the unchanging splendor Of courage no ills could subdue! Eyes dark with the dread of the morrow, And woe for the day that was gone, The sleepless companions of sorrow, The watchers that witnessed the dawn. Eyes tired from the clamor and goading And dim from the stress of the years, And hallowed by pain and foreboding And strained by repression of tears. Sad eyes that were wearied and blighted By visions of sieges and wars Now watch o'er a country united From the luminous slopes of the stars! |
PRESIDENT LINCOLN IN 1862
Photograph by Matthew Brady, Washington, D. C.
Arthur Guiterman, author, born of American parentage, at Vienna, Austria, November 20, 1871. Editorial work on Woman's Home Companion, Literary Digest and other magazines since 1891. Author of Betel Nuts, 1907; Guest Book, 1908; Rubiayat, including the Literary Omar, 1909, and Orestes (with Andre Tridon), 1909. Contributor chiefly of ballad, lyric verse and short stories to magazines and newspapers.
[HE LEADS US STILL]
| Dare we despair? Through all the nights and days Of lagging war he kept his courage true. Shall Doubt befog our eyes? A darker haze But proved the faith of him who ever knew That Right must conquer. May we cherish hate For our poor griefs, when never word nor deed Of rancor, malice, spite, of low or great, In his large soul one poison-drop could breed? He leads us still. O'er chasms yet unspanned Our pathway lies; the work is but begun; But we shall do our part and leave our land The mightier for noble battles won. Here Truth must triumph, Honor must prevail; The nation Lincoln died for cannot fail! |