The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1904-04-21

You lay a wreath murdered Lincoln's bier,
You, who with hooking pencil wont to trace,
Broad for the self-compacent British sheer, rwwI
His length of shambling limb, his furrowed face,
His gaunt gpared hands, his unkemp brstling hair.
His garb uncouth his bearing i'll at ease,
His lack of all we prize debonair, Sas$
or power or will to shine, of art to please.
You, whose smart pen backed up the pencils laugh,
Judging each step, as though the way were plain;
Reckless so it could point paragraph,
Of Chiefs perplexity, or peoples pain
Beside this corpse, that for winding sheet
The Stars and Stripes he lived to rear anew,
Between the mourners at his head and feet,
Say, sourril- jester. is there room for you?
Yes, he had lived to shame me from my sheer,
To lame my pencil, and confute my pen
To make me own this hind of princes peer,
This rail-splitter, true born king OF men.
My shallow Judgment had learnt to rue,
Noting how to occasions height he rose
How his quaint wit made home-truth seem true,
How iron-like, his temper grew by blows
How humble yet how hopeful he could be:
How in good fortune and in ill the same:
Nor bitter in success nor boastful he
Thirsty for gold, feverish for fame
He went about his work-suoh work as few
Ever had laid on head and heart and hand
AS who knows where there's task to do,
Mans honest will must Heaven good grace command;
Who trusts the strength will with the burden grow,
That God makes instruments to work His will,
If but that will arrive to know,
Nor tamper with the weights of good and ILL.,
So he went forth to battle. the side
That he felt clear Liberty and Rights
AS in his peasant boyhood he had piled
His warfare with rude natures thwarting nights
The uncleared forest, the unbroken soil.
The iron bark, that turns the laborers axe.
The rapid that o'erbears the boatman's TOLL
The PRAIRIE hiding the mazed wanderers tracks,
The ambushed Indian. and the prowling bear
Such were the that helped his youth to train,
Rough culture-but such trees large fruit may BEAR
If but their stocks be of right grth and grain.
So he grew up, a destined work to do,
And lived to do it: four long suffering years
Ill fate ill-fortune. ll-report lived through,
And then he heard the Kisses change to cheers,
The taunts tribute, the abuse to praise
And took both with the unwavering mood:
Till, he light. from darkling days,
And seemed to touch the goal from where he stood,
A felon hand, between the goal and him.
Reached from behind his back, trigger prest-
And those perplexed and patient eyes dim,
Those gaunt, long -laboring limbs laid to rest
The words of mercy upon his lips
Forgiveness in his heart and on his pen,
When this vile murderer brought swift eclipse
To thoughts of peace earth, goodwill to men.
The Old World and the New, from to sea-
Utter one voice OF sympathy and shame!
Sore heart stopped when it at last beat high,
Sad life, cut short just its triumph came.
A deed accurst! Strokes have been struck before
By the assassin s hand, whereof men doubt
If more of horror disgrace they bore;
But thy foul crime, like Gains, stands darkly out
Vile hand that brandest murder a strife,
Whate it's grounds, stoutly and nobly striven:
And with the martyrs crown crownest life
tO nraiaa flo to ba fOrpiv