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If I have to be typecast, I'd like it to be as Abraham Lincoln.

quote by Sam Waterston
Added by Lucian Velea
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Weary Of The World, And With Heaven Most Dear

Farewell, world, farewell
As thrall here I’m weary and no more will dwell,
The manifold burdens that on me have lain,
I wrest them now from me and do them disdain,
I wrench myself free, though am wearied withal:
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

And what everywhere
Does this world embellish with visage so fair?
’Tis all merely shadows and baubles of glass,
’Tis all merely bubbles and clattering brass,
’Tis all but thin ice, filth and mischief withal:
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

My years what are they?
That furtively dwindle and sidle away?
And what are my worries? My thought-troubled mind?
My joy or my sorrow? My fancies so blind?
And what do my work, moil and toil all recall?
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

Oh riches and gold,
You false earthly idol so bright to behold,
You are though among the deceits the world brings
That wax, wane and alter with all other things.
You are but vain glory whate’er may befall:
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

Ah, honour – ’tis what?
Your crowns and your laurels proclaim what you’re not,
And envy consumes you and sits on your back,
You lack peace of mind and are prone to attack!
You stumble where others contrive not to fall:
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

Ah, favour and grace
That mist-like enfold us, are gone without trace.
You fickle infl ator that puffs up the mind,
You thousand-eyed creature that e’en so are blind,
When viewed ’gainst the sun one can see that you pall:
’Tis vanity all,
’Tis vanity all.

Ah, friendship and trust,
That veers vanes to happiness with every gust!

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Kingo
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Washington and Lincoln

Come, happy people! Oh come let us tell
The story of Washinton and Lincoln!
History's pages can never excel
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Down through the ages an anthem shall go,
Bearing the honors we gladly bestow--
Till every nation and language shall know
The story of Washington and Lincoln:

Who gave us independence,
On our continent and sea
Who saved the glorious Union!
And set a people free!
This is the story--
Oh happy are we--
The story of Washington and Lincoln.

Parents to children shall tell with delight,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Free born and freed men together recite
The story of Washinton and Lincoln.
Earth's weary bond men shall listen with cheer--
Tyrants shall tremble, and traitors shall fear--
When, in it's fullness of glory, they hear
The story of Washington and Lincoln:

Though on the war cloud recorded with steel,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Peace only Peace, can completely reveal
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Thanks to the Lord for the days we behold!
Thanks for the unsullied flag we unfold!
Thanks to us, and in our time, was told
The story of Washington and Lincoln.

poem by Henry Clay Work
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Cleanness

Clannesse who so kyndly cowþe comende
& rekken vp alle þe resounz þat ho by ri3t askez,
Fayre formez my3t he fynde in for[þ]ering his speche
& in þe contrare kark & combraunce huge.
For wonder wroth is þe Wy3þat wro3t alle þinges
Wyth þe freke þat in fylþe fol3es Hym after,
As renkez of relygioun þat reden & syngen
& aprochen to hys presens & prestez arn called;
Thay teen vnto his temmple & temen to hym seluen,
Reken with reuerence þay rychen His auter;
Þay hondel þer his aune body & vsen hit boþe.
If þay in clannes be clos þay cleche gret mede;
Bot if þay conterfete crafte & cortaysye wont,
As be honest vtwyth & inwith alle fylþez,
Þen ar þay synful hemself & sulped altogeder
Boþe God & His gere, & hym to greme cachen.
He is so clene in His courte, þe Kyng þat al weldez,
& honeste in His housholde & hagherlych serued
With angelez enourled in alle þat is clene,
Boþ withine & withouten in wedez ful bry3t;
Nif he nere scoymus & skyg & non scaþe louied,
Hit were a meruayl to much, hit mo3t not falle.
Kryst kydde hit Hymself in a carp onez,
Þeras He heuened a3t happez & hy3t hem her medez.
Me mynez on one amonge oþer, as Maþew recordez,
Þat þus clanness vnclosez a ful cler speche:
Þe haþel clene of his hert hapenez ful fayre,
For he schal loke on oure Lorde with a bone chere';
As so saytz, to þat sy3t seche schal he neuer
Þat any vnclannesse hatz on, auwhere abowte;
For He þat flemus vch fylþe fer fro His hert
May not byde þat burre þat hit His body ne3en.
Forþy hy3not to heuen in haterez totorne,
Ne in þe harlatez hod, & handez vnwaschen.
For what vrþly haþel þat hy3honour haldez
Wolde lyke if a ladde com lyþerly attyred,
When he were sette solempnely in a sete ryche,
Abof dukez on dece, with dayntys serued?
Þen þe harlot with haste helded to þe table,
With rent cokrez at þe kne & his clutte traschez,
& his tabarde totorne, & his totez oute,
Oþer ani on of alle þyse, he schulde be halden vtter,
With mony blame ful bygge, a boffet peraunter,
Hurled to þe halle dore & harde þeroute schowued,
& be forboden þat bor3e to bowe þider neuer,
On payne of enprysonment & puttyng in stokkez;
& þus schal he be schent for his schrowde feble,
Þa3neuer in talle ne in tuch he trespas more.
& if vnwelcum he were to a worþlych prynce,
3et hym is þe hy3e Kyng harder in her euen;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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Shield Of Abraham

(kinky friedman)
Jacob climbed the ladder, climbed it to the sky,
Said, people, whats the matter ?
Heaven aint so high,
People, heaven aint so high,
When you got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
The years were lights they wandered in the desert 40 years
And ol moses told the children
brush away them tears,
Hey, kids, this aint no time for tears.
Children
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
David, he fought goliath with nothing but a tiny stone.
David, little david, God knows youre not alone,
God knows youre not alone.
David, you got the shield,
Youve got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Little david.
You got the shield,
You got the shield,
You got the shield of abraham.
Rock and roll redeemer, oh people, hear my song,
And let the music keep us loving, let the spirit keep us strong,
Let your sweet love keep us strong.
cause weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield,
Weve got the shield of abraham.
Little children.
Weve got the shield,

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinky Friedman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 8)

To Mount of Olives, Jesus went;
He came to Temple in the morn;
The people flocked to Him at once;
He sat and taught them many things.

The scribes then brought a woman caught
In adultery, and made her stand;
They said to Jesus, ‘O teacher,
This woman is an adulteress,
And got caught in the very act.
As Moses commands us to stone
Such women, so, what do you say? ’

They wanted to test Jesus thus;
So they could charge him in some way;
But Jesus wrote something on ground.
They persisted in asking Him,
So, Jesus said, ‘let one of you
Without a sin, then throw first stone.’

Again, He bent and wrote on ground;
Each one of them then left in turns;
The woman stood near Him alone;
Then Jesus asked her, ‘Where are they?
Has no one condemned you as yet? ’

The woman replied, ‘No one, sir! ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Neither do I;
So, go; from now on, do not sin.’

Then Jesus spoke to them again,
‘I am the one light of the world!
Who follows me won’t have darkness;
But will walk in the light of life.’

The Pharisees then said to him,
‘You testify on your behalf;
Your words remain unverified.’

Then Jesus answered and told them,
‘What I speak can be verified,
Because I know from where I come;
I also know to where I go;
But, you know nothing about both!
You judge by looks but I don’t judge!
But if I should, it is valid,
Because I am not all alone;
My Father is with me, who sent; .
But even in your law ’tis writ,
‘Two men’s words can be verified;

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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Why A Lifetime Of Suffering?

If you ask me why
good people must

endure a life of suffering
now I could make reply

after so many decades living
with many answers differing

I could truthfully say
in life to all eventually

comes a time of testing
causes for stumbling

Jesus said to his disciples
“It is unavoidable that causes:
for stumbling should come.

Nevertheless, woe to the one
through whom they come!
It would be of more advantage
to him if a millstone were

suspended from his neck
and he were thrown into the sea
than for him to stumble one
of these little ones.” Luke 17: 1-2.

Now hear a parable on suffering
be warned learn the moral lesson

for it seems to me all famed worlds
wealthy; are rich for but brief seasons

listen to these wise words told by Jesus
the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus.

“Jesus said, “There was a certain rich man
who was splendidly clothed in purple and
fine linen and who lived each day in luxury.

At his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus
who was covered with sores. As Lazarus lay
there longing for scraps from the rich man’s

table, the dogs would come and lick his open
sores. “Finally, the poor man died and was
carried by the angels to be with Abraham.

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lincoln County

Ive gotta get a train, take me back home again,
See my daddy, momma wants to see me too.
Im gonna see my momma looking through the window
At the station in the morning, been a few mornings since Ive been home.
Ive been doing wrong but now Im going home.
So come on girls, you better put your best boots on.
cause when I get home to lincoln county,
Wont know which way to go, Im gonna find all those pretty girls.
Im gonna find them all.
cause when I get home to lincoln county,
Gonna lift the lid off hell, drink some beer, Im gonna live it swell[? ].
Then Im gonna shout for more.
Well, I bought a new suit at the best pawn brokers shop,
Bought my ticket from money that I saved in jail.
I got a boot lace tie, I got for my pa,
I got a head scarf, fair, I got for my momma that she wont wear.
Ive been doing wrong but now Im going home.
So come on girls, you better put your best boots on.
cause when I get home to lincoln county,
Wont know which way to go, Im gonna find all those pretty girls.
Im gonna find them all.
cause when I get home to lincoln county,
Gonna lift the lid off hell, drink some beer, Im gonna live it swell[? ].
Then Im gonna shout for more.
Ive gotta get a train, take me back home again,
See my daddy, momma wants to see me too.
cause when I get me back to lincoln county,
Gonna lift the lid off hell, drink some beer, Im gonna live it swell[? ].
Then Im gonna shout for more.
cause when I get back to lincoln county,
Gonna lift the lid off hell, drink some beer, Im gonna live it swell[? ].
Then Im gonna shout for more.
cause when I get home to lincoln county,
Wont know which way to go, Im gonna find all those pretty girls.
Im gonna find them all.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robert of Lincoln

Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Snug and safe is this nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,
Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders, and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Look what a nice, new coat is mine;
Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Brood, kind creature, you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Never was I afraid of man,
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
Flecked with purple, a pretty sight:
There as the mother sits all day,
Robert is singing with all his might,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Nice good wife that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cullen Bryant
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Adrienne Vittadini

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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The Scapegoat

We have all of us read how the Israelites fled
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em,
And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup"
When the waters rolled softly o'er every galoot of 'em.
The Jews were so glad when old Pharaoh was "had"
That they sounded their timbrels and capered like mad.
You see he was hated from Jordan to Cairo --
Whence comes the expression "to buck against faro".
For forty long years, 'midst perils and fears
In deserts with never a famine to follow by,
The Israelite horde went roaming abroad
Like so many sundowners "out on the wallaby".
When Moses, who led 'em, and taught 'em, and fed 'em,
Was dying, he murmured, "A rorty old hoss you are:
I give you command of the whole of the band" --
And handed the Government over to Joshua.

But Moses told 'em before he died,
"Wherever you are, whatever betide,
Every year as the time draws near
By lot or by rote choose you a goat,
And let the high priest confess on the beast
The sins of the people the worst and the least,
Lay your sins on the goat! Sure the plan ought to suit yer.
Because all your sins are 'his troubles' in future.
Then lead him away to the wilderness black
To die with the weight of your sins on his back:
Of thirst let him perish alone and unshriven,
For thus shall your sins be absolved and forgiven!"

'Tis needless to say, though it reeked of barbarity
This scapegoat arrangement gained great popularity.
By this means a Jew, whate'er he might do,
Though he burgled, or murdered, or cheated at loo,
Or meat on Good Friday (a sin most terrific) ate,
Could get his discharge, like a bankrupt's certificate;
Just here let us note -- Did they choose their best goat?
It's food for conjecture, to judge from the picture
By Hunt in the Gallery close to our door, a
Man well might suppose that the scapegoat they chose
Was a long way from being their choicest Angora.

In fact I should think he was one of their weediest:
'Tis a rule that obtains, no matter who reigns,
When making a sacrifice, offer the seediest;
Which accounts for a theory known to my hearers
Who live in the wild by the wattle beguiled,
That a "stag" makes quite good enough mutton for shearers.
Be that as it may, as each year passed away,
a scapegoat was led to the desert and freighted

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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The Mystery of Israel

This is the mystery of Israel, and how they fit into God’s will.
God met with this man Abram, when this man had not a son.
He told him to leave his kin, and go to a place He’d show him.
His name changed to Abraham, for he’d be given many lands.

God told him he’d have a son, when he and Sarah had no one.
Then Abraham simply gasped, while his wife Sarah laughed.
So Sarah decided to use Hagar, although God played no part.
Hagar and Abraham had a son, but he wasn’t the chosen one.

Abraham’s first son was Ishmael, but he was of a human deal.
For Abraham’s other son Isaac, was the one God would pick.
And it was Isaac’s son Jacob, who was the one that God loved.
Jacob wrestled with God’s will, and his named became Israel.

And this is the name of the land, that God promised Abraham.
God said He’d bless each nation, through Abraham’s situation.
Then the Jews entered the land, under Joshua and God’s Hand.
But they would anger The Lord, when His decrees they ignored.

God for a time turned from them, with His Covenant for all men.
Israel’s been hardened for awhile, as God includes the Gentile.
The Jew and Gentile are now one, under the Blood of God’s Son.
And Israel will receive her land, under the rule of The Son of Man.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Paradise Lost: Book 12

As one who in his journey bates at noon,
Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused
Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored,
If Adam aught perhaps might interpose;
Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes.
Thus thou hast seen one world begin, and end;
And Man, as from a second stock, proceed.
Much thou hast yet to see; but I perceive
Thy mortal sight to fail; objects divine
Must needs impair and weary human sense:
Henceforth what is to come I will relate;
Thou therefore give due audience, and attend.
This second source of Men, while yet but few,
And while the dread of judgement past remains
Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity,
With some regard to what is just and right
Shall lead their lives, and multiply apace;
Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop,
Corn, wine, and oil; and, from the herd or flock,
Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid,
With large wine-offerings poured, and sacred feast,
Shall spend their days in joy unblamed; and dwell
Long time in peace, by families and tribes,
Under paternal rule: till one shall rise
Of proud ambitious heart; who, not content
With fair equality, fraternal state,
Will arrogate dominion undeserved
Over his brethren, and quite dispossess
Concord and law of nature from the earth;
Hunting (and men not beasts shall be his game)
With war, and hostile snare, such as refuse
Subjection to his empire tyrannous:
A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled
Before the Lord; as in despite of Heaven,
Or from Heaven, claiming second sovranty;
And from rebellion shall derive his name,
Though of rebellion others he accuse.
He with a crew, whom like ambition joins
With him or under him to tyrannize,
Marching from Eden towards the west, shall find
The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge
Boils out from under ground, the mouth of Hell:
Of brick, and of that stuff, they cast to build
A city and tower, whose top may reach to Heaven;
And get themselves a name; lest, far dispersed
In foreign lands, their memory be lost;
Regardless whether good or evil fame.
But God, who oft descends to visit men
Unseen, and through their habitations walks
To mark their doings, them beholding soon,

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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A22 God Commands Abraham to Offer Isaac

One day, God tested Abraham.
He called, 'Oh Abraham.'
And he answered, 'Here I'm'
An offering, God asked him.

'At Moriah, there's a mountain.
To its top, you take your son,
And offer him as sacrifice to me.
Let this be my command to thee.'

The next day morning, Abraham loaded,
Onto his donkey logs of firewood;
With two servants and his one son,
He went to the place God-chosen.

He ordered his servants to stay
With donkey, some distance away;
He walked upto the place,
Meant for the sacrifice.

With knife and firewood,
To that spot, Isaac, he led.
On the way, his son enquired,
'Where’s the lamb to be offered? '

'My son, ' so Abraham replied,
'That God will provide.'
When they reached the spot,
An altar Abraham built.

O’er the altar, he loaded,
The firewood carried.
He tied his son and placed
Him on the firewood.

He raised the knife,
To take his son's life;
But an Angel came,
And said, 'Don't hurt him.'

'God knows you honour,
And obey Him forever,
By offering your only son,
Late in your life, who was born.'

The Lord showed a ram
Stuck in a bush to Abraham
Who caught hold of it.
As sacrificial offer, he burnt it.

[...] Read more

poem by Simple Simon
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Darwin and Lincoln - an ovation

Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln
Are, this year, two hundred years old.
Darwin’s theory shocked the religions.
Lincoln’s democracy shook the nations.

Darwin and Lincoln have made their enemies,
Who survive them to keep them alive.
Darwin and Lincoln made their theories,
Which survive them to keep them alive.

Darwin liberated us from ignorance
Let the vested interests die with age
Lincoln abolished slavery by law.
Let the spirit of tolerance rise to match.
11.02.2009

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Today... 'Greater than Abraham

Abraham with the Lord could not compare
For none like Jesus can be found anywhere.
Just trusting in Abraham would not do
we all need to trust and believe in You.

'Before Abraham was, ' You said 'I AM.'
For You were there before the world began.
You were present at creations first dawn
and saw the day when Abraham was born.

Saw him leaving Ur of the Chaldeans.
Watched over him walking through foreign scenes.
At Sodom and Gomorrah You were there
ensuring Lot their judgment did not share.

'You are demon possessed' to You they said
and picked up stones for they wanted You dead.
Not trusting Christ but Abraham instead
would bring greater judgment upon their head.

Lord Jesus you are far beyond compare.
Your glory with another You won't share.
That is why the people heard You declare
That one greater than Abraham was there.

(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)

poem by Roy Allen
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Rebekkah

When Abraham was weak and old
he forced his slave to swear an oath,
while grasping of his member hold:
“Make sure that Isaac plights his troth
to someone from my ancient clan;
from Canaanites don’t choose a damsel;
in Canaan I believe each man
to be a mamzer, girl a mamzelle.”
Everybody knows a mamzer
is repulsive to the Jews,
a cockroach rather than Greg Samsa,
but mamzelle is a word I choose
instead of mademoiselle, for rhyming;
a lot of members of my tribe
like them a lot when they’re good-timing,
though outlawed by the Bible scribe.

The slave asked God to make it clear,
by giving him a secret sign:
“The first young girl who will appear
and bring me water, not cool wine,
should be for Isaac lifelong mate.”
She came, of Bethuel the daughter,
and didn’t cause the slave to wait
until she brought him ice-cold water.
A prompt response, what he’d been urgin’,
occurred at once, and what is more
she was what he had asked for, virgin,
a miracle, I’d say, encore.
Some water for the camels, too,
she brought, precisely as he’d bid,
although she clearly never knew
it was God’s will, because He hid,
as later He would hide when Ruth
by Boaz was allowed to glean.
His hidden will reveals the truth
like daylight coming through a screen,
a scrim that only may be lifted
by those who’re spiritually gifted.

I ought to mention here a point.
Though Canaanite, the slaveman thought
that Abraham might yet appoint
him as his heir, and therefore sought
to lie with that young girl, he knew
he ought to bring back to his lord
for Isaac as a virgin. Clue
for this interpretation find
in language that describes him as
a man, a word that should remind

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poem by Gershon Hepner
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The Columbiad: Book VII

The Argument

Coast of France rises in vision. Louis, to humble the British power, forms an alliance with the American states. This brings France, Spain and Holland into the war, and rouses Hyder Ally to attack the English in India. The vision returns to America, where the military operations continue with various success. Battle of Monmouth. Storming of Stonypoint by Wayne. Actions of Lincoln, and surrender of Charleston. Movements of Cornwallis. Actions of Greene, and battle of Eutaw. French army arrives, and joins the American. They march to besiege the English army of Cornwallis in York and Gloster. Naval battle of Degrasse and Graves. Two of their ships grappled and blown up. Progress of the siege. A citadel mined and blown up. Capture of Cornwallis and his army. Their banners furled and muskets piled on the field of battle.

Thus view'd the Pair; when lo, in eastern skies,
From glooms unfolding, Gallia's coasts arise.
Bright o'er the scenes of state a golden throne,
Instarr'd with gems and hung with purple, shone;
Young Bourbon there in royal splendor sat,
And fleets and moving armies round him wait.
For now the contest, with increased alarms,
Fill'd every court and roused the world to arms;
As Hesper's hand, that light from darkness brings,
And good to nations from the scourge of kings,
In this dread hour bade broader beams unfold,
And the new world illuminate the old.

In Europe's realms a school of sages trace
The expanding dawn that waits the Reasoning Race;
On the bright Occident they fix their eyes,
Thro glorious toils where struggling nations rise;
Where each firm deed, each new illustrious name
Calls into light a field of nobler fame:
A field that feeds their hope, confirms the plan
Of well poized freedom and the weal of man.
They scheme, they theorize, expand their scope,
Glance o'er Hesperia to her utmost cope;
Where streams unknown for other oceans stray,
Where suns unseen their waste of beams display,
Where sires of unborn nations claim their birth,
And ask their empires in those wilds of earth.
While round all eastern climes, with painful eye,
In slavery sunk they see the kingdoms lie,
Whole states exhausted to enrich a throne,
Their fruits untasted and their rights unknown;
Thro tears of grief that speak the well taught mind,
They hail the æra that relieves mankind.

Of these the first, the Gallic sages stand,
And urge their king to lift an aiding hand.
The cause of humankind their souls inspired,
Columbia's wrongs their indignation fired;
To share her fateful deeds their counsel moved,
To base in practice what in theme they proved:
That no proud privilege from birth can spring,
No right divine, nor compact form a king;
That in the people dwells the sovereign sway,
Who rule by proxy, by themselves obey;

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poem by Joel Barlow
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Elegy Of Lincoln

Lincoln is gone — who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim —
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.

Lincoln is gone — and now for ever still
The gentle, manly, and the feeling heart
And quench'd in might the endless will
That never flinch'd from Duty's sternest part.

The Negro mourns for him who wont to stand
The foremost Champion in fair freedom's train;
Who took the dusky Ethiope by the hand
And from his forehead wiped the shameful stain.

The gloomy Indian hears the tale with grief
Of his Protector's dark untimely end —
And sternly sorrows for the Pale-face Chief,
The red man's brother and his constant friend.

Now anarchy and rest overwhelm
In mid-career our lordly ship of state
For Lincoln's hand no longer holds the helm
To guide her passage through the fearful strait.

His foresight deep, his judgment keen and cool,
Would hush Sedition's voice and Discord's jar —
Oh! For another year of Lincoln's rule
To blot the footprints of intestine war.

But though we view the blank where late he stood
Discharging fearlessly his country's trust,
His name shall number with the great and good
When his proud tomb has moulder'd in the dust.

When dove-eyed peace shall have eternal birth,
And spread Millennial bliss along our shore
And all the nations of the smiling earth
Shall learn the horrid art of war no more.

Yes! we may search from Boston's busy street
To far Nebraska's wide untrodden plain
But no such man as Lincoln may we meet,
Nor shall his country see his like again.

poem by Joseph Furphy
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 17

'I am Spes, a spie,' quod he, 'and spire after a knyght
That took me a maundement upon the mount of Synay
To rule alle reames therewith - l bere the writ here.'
'Is it asseled?' I seide. 'May men see thi lettres?'
'Nay.' he seide. 'I seke hym that hath the seel to kepe -
And that is cros and Cristendom, and Crist theron to honge.
And whan it is asseled so, I woot wel the sothe -
That Luciferis lordshipe laste shal no lenger!'
' Lat se thi lettres,' quod I, 'we myghte the lawe knowe.'
He plukkede forth a patente, a pece of an hard roche,
Whereon was writen two wordes on this wise yglosed;

Dilige Deum et proximum tuum -
This was the tixte trewely - I took ful good yeme.
The glose was gloriously writen with a gilt penne
In hiis duobus mandatis tota lex penhet et prophete.
' Is here alle thi lordes lawes?' quod I. ' Ye, leve me,' he seide.
'And whoso wet cheth after this writ, I wol undertaken,
Shal nevere devel hym dere, ne deeth in soule greve.
For though I seye it myself, I have saved with this charme
Of men and of wommen many score thousand.'
' He seith sooth,' seide this heraud, ' I have yfounde it ofte.
Lo! here in my lappe that leeved on that charme -
Josue and Judith and Judas Macabeus,
Ye, and sixti thousand biside forth that ben noght seyen here!'
' Youre wordes arn wonderfulle,' quod I tho. ' Which of yow is trewest,
And lelest to leve on for lif and for soule?
Abraham seith that he seigh hoolly the Trinite,
Thre persones in parcelles departable fro oother,
And alle thre but o God - thus Abraham me taughte -
And hath saved that bileved so and sory for hir synnes,
He kan noght siggen the somme, and some arn in his lappe.
What neded it thanne a newe lawe to brynge,
Sith the firste suffiseth to savacion and to blisse?
And now cometh Spes and speketh, that hath aspied the lawe,
And telleth noght of the Trinite that took hym hise lettres -
To bileeve and lovye in o Lord almyghty,
And siththe right as myself so lovye alle peple.
'The gorne thit gooth with o staf - he semeth in gretter heele
Than he that gooth with two staves, to sighte of us alle.
And right so, bi the roode, reson me sheweth
It is lighter to lewed men o lesson to knowe
Than for to techen hem two, and to hard to lerne the leeste!
It is ful hard for any man on Abraham bileve,

And wel awey worse yit for to love a sherewe.
In pace in is lighter to leeve in thre lovely persones
Than for to lovye and lene as wel lorels as lele.
Go thi gate, 'quod I to Spes; 'so me God helpe,
Tho that lernen thi lawe wol litel while usen it!'

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poem by William Langland
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