More dear than others, but the glorious whole.
He gave to save the Union, all his heart,
His brain, his soul.
In one brief respite from the awful strain,
The foul assassin’s bullet—then the end.
And all the wide world mourned, and mourned in vain,
The nation’s friend.
But was it all in vain, when proudly waves
The flag he loved—full starred—from shore to shore?
When North and South clasp hands o’er heroes’ graves,