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THE POETS' LINCOLN

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BRAHAM LINCOLN was born on the 12th day of February, 1809, on the Big South Fork of Nolin Creek, in what was then known as Hardin, but is now known as La Rue County, Kentucky, about three miles from Hodgensville.

The above illustration represents the cabin in which he was born, as described by his former neighbors.

Out of that old hut came the mighty man of destiny, the matchless man of the Nineteenth Century. The world has no parallel for that transition from the cabin to the White House.

JUV

ULIA WARD [HOWE] was born in New York City, May 27, 1819. At an early age she wrote plays and poems. In 1843 Miss Ward married Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe. In 1861, while on a visit to the camp near Washington, with Governor John A. Andrew and other friends, Mrs. Howe wrote to the air of “John Brown's Body" the "Battle Hymn of the Republic" which has become so popular. She also published several books of poems. She espoused the WomanSuffrage movement in 1869, and devoted much of her time to the cause. She died in 1910.

This poem was written by Mrs. Howe in her ninetieth year and read by her in Symphony Hall, Boston, on the centenary of the martyred President's birthday, February 12, 1909.

T

LINCOLN

HROUGH the dim pageant of the years
A wondrous tracery appears:

A cabin of the western wild
Shelters in sleep a new born child.

Nor nurse nor parent dear can know
The way those infant feet must go,
And yet a nation's help and hope
Are sealed within that horoscope.

Beyond is toil for daily bread,
And thought to noble issues led.
And courage, arming for the morn
For whose behest this man was born.

A man of homely, rustic ways,
Yet he achieves the forum's praise

And soon earth's highest meed has won,

No throne of honors and delights,
Distrustful days and sleepless nights,
To struggle, suffer and aspire,
Like Israel, led by cloud and fire.

A treacherous shot, a sob of rest,
A martyr's palm upon his breast,
A welcome from the glorious seat
Where blameless souls of heroes meet.

And thrilling, through unmeasured days,
A song of gratitude and praise,

A cry that all the earth shall heed,
To God, who gave him for our need.

THE GREAT OAK

HOME men are born, while others seem to grow

SOM

From out the soil, like towering trees that spread Their strong, broad limbs in shelter overhead When tempest storms, protecting all below.

Lincoln, Great Oak of a Nation's life,
Rose from the soil, with all its virgin power
Emplanted in him for the fateful hour,
When he might save a Nation in its strife.

-Bennett Chapple.

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