Evening star., 1902-02-12
THE GREAT LINCOLN.
Potic Tribute to the American States.
man by an English Bard.

Many prose and poetic eulogies on Abra-
ham Lincoln are being read and spoken to-
day, this being the ninety-thlrd anniversary
Of that great mans birth. In the vast sum
of literature which the life, deeds and
death OF Lincoln inspired there are many
poems which shine because Of their merit,
but perhaps none more SO than that writ
ten by Tom Taylor, an English editor and
dramatist. Taylor's poem appeared in Lon
don Punch May 9, 1866 that paper having
been notorious for the ruthlessness with
which it had lampooned Lincoln. Taylor
was born at Sunderland in 1917 and died
a. Wadsworth July II, 1850. The poem fol-
lows:
You lay wreath murdered Lncoln's bier
You, who with mocking pencil wont to trace
Broad for the self-complacent British sneer,
His length of shambling limb his furrowed face,
His garb nneouth his bearing ill at ease,
His lack Of all we prize as debonair
OF power or will TO shine Of art to please
Judging each step, as though the way were plain;
Reckless, so It could point paragraph.
or chiefs pcrpleAity, or people pain
Beside this corpse that bears for winding sheet
The stars and stripes he lived to rear anew
Between the mourners at his head and feet
Say, scurr jester, Is there room for your
Yes he had lived to shame me from my sneer
To lame my pencil, and confute my pen
To make me this hind Of princes peer
This rail- splitter true born king of men.
NV shallow Judgment had learnt TO rue.
Noting how to occasions height he rose:
How his quaint wit made home truth seem more
How, iron Ike, his temper grew by blows
How in good fortune and in Ill the same;
Nor bitter in success, nor bOastful he,
Thirsty for gold, nor feverish for fame.
He went about his work-sueh work as few
Ever had laid on head and heart and hand
As one who knows. where there's task to do.
Mans honest will must heavens good grace
command
Who trusts the strength will with the burden grow.
II but that will we can arrive to know,
Nor tamper with the weights Of good and Ill.
So he went forth to battle, on the side
That he felt clear was Lberty's and Rights,
hs i Warfare rude Sstulss thwart,n.
The u.cleared forest, the unbroken soil.
~ Tho iron barko nhst t. tnrns ms the iumberer. az,
The prairis hiding the mazed wanderers tracks.
The ambushed Isdian,I Iand the prowlins bear
Such were thstdeeds that helped his youth to
Rough culturs-but such trees large fruit may bear
If but their stocks be Of right girth and grain.
So he grew mp. . destlsed work to do.
And lived % do.it - four long suffering years.
And then he heard the Kisses change to cheers,
The taunts to {hbute,, the abuse to praise,
And took both With tie same unwa averfng mood:
Till as he came on hight, from darklin3 daye
And seemed to- tsuch the goal from where he
stood. sr
felon hand, between the goal and him.
Reached from behind his back, q trigger prest-
And those perplexed and patient eyes were dim
Those gaunt. long-laborlng limbs were laid to
The words Of mercy were upon his lips
Forgiveness in his heart and on hfs pen
When this vile murderer brought swift eclipse
To thoughts Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Tho old world and the new, from sea to sea-
Utter one voice Of sympathy and shamei
Sore heart. 20 stopped when It at last beat high!
Sad life, cut short just as its triumph camel
deed accursti Strokes have been struck before
BY the assassin's hand, whereof men doubt
II more Of horror or disgrace they bore;
But thy foul crime, like Gains stands darkly out
vile hand that hrandest murder q strife.
Whate'er Its grounds, stoutly and nobly striven;
And with the martyrs crown crownest life
With much to praise, little to be forgiven!