Classic Poem

Lincoln has fallen!
Toll it, ye bells, over valleys and mountains;
Wail it, ye winds, as ye sweep on your way;
Moan it in sadness, lakes, rivers, and fountains;
And all ye blue waves, on the beaches at play,
Bear it over the sea—a most terrible burden;
Oh, never before such a tale did ye tell;
The tempest was spent, and at hand was the guerdon,
When out of a clear sky, this thunderbolt fell!


Lincoln has fallen!
With his hand on the wheel, while the wild storm was beating,
How firmly he stood, with his calm, patient face
Lifted up to the sky, as ever entreating
The Lord of the tempest, to lend him His grace.
All around him the leaden hail rattled, and loudly,
And wild, o'er the deck, swept the breath of the gale;
And we looked on our pilot so gladly and proudly,
But see! here he lies to-day, helpless and pale.


Lincoln has fallen!
For the old flag he died: we will wrap it around him!
He died for the truth; deeply traced on his soul
Was the law of the Lord, and He surely will crown him
A King, while the years of eternity roll.
O “People that prayed for him,” tenderly take him:
O “state that he loved,” let him sleep on your breast;
Though hearts break within us, we cannot awake him;
Tread lightly, speak low—let the President rest!


Lincoln has fallen!
Toll it, ye bells, over valleys and mountains;
Wail it, ye winds, as ye sweep on your way;
Moan it in sadness, lakes, rivers, and fountains;
And all ye blue waves, on the beaches at play,
Bear it over the sea—a most terrible burden;
Oh, never before such a tale did ye tell;
The tempest was spent, and at hand was the guerdon,
When out of a clear sky, this thunderbolt fell!


Lincoln has fallen!
With his hand on the wheel, while the wild storm was beating,
How firmly he stood, with his calm, patient face
Lifted up to the sky, as ever entreating
The Lord of the tempest, to lend him His grace.
All around him the leaden hail rattled, and loudly,
And wild, o'er the deck, swept the breath of the gale;
And we looked on our pilot so gladly and proudly,
But see! here he lies to-day, helpless and pale.


Lincoln has fallen!
For the old flag he died: we will wrap it around him!
He died for the truth; deeply traced on his soul
Was the law of the Lord, and He surely will crown him
A King, while the years of eternity roll.
O “People that prayed for him,” tenderly take him:
O “state that he loved,” let him sleep on your breast;
Though hearts break within us, we cannot awake him;
Tread lightly, speak low—let the President rest!