Abraham Lincoln Poem by Alfred Gibbs Campbell

Written during the passage of the funeral procession in New York, April 25th, 1865.

Ah! our dead President!
Bear him to rest,
Him we loved best,
By God to us lent.
Heavy the burdens he bore
Faithfully, cheerfully!
Now burdens for him no more!
Lay him to rest,
Tenderly, tearfully,
Him we loved best,
Evermore blest!
Nobly his work is done!
Sudden his set of sun,
But his great work was done,
Faithfully done!
Now he's gone home;
Home to abide,
Home with the glorified!
Martyr of Truth and Right,
Who for thy country died,
Look from thy glorious height,
How many million eyes
Grief doth baptize
With its sad sacrifice;
And while the hot tears fall
O'er our beloved's pall,
List to the vows we make
Over thy bier;
Hear now the oath we take
By the Great God above,
Him whose best name is Love,
Name ever dear,
That thou avenged shalt be,
Perfectly, speedily;
Not by the death of those
Who were thy deadly foes;
Not by a bloody tide
Poured out on every side;
Powerless this alone,
Never could this atone
For the assassin's deed;
But the fell crime, whose power
Nerved, in that fatal hour,
Murderous heart and hand,
Shall be with speed
Swept from thy native land.
Millions whom thou didst free,
(When God, through thy decree,
Blew his great trump of Liberty,)
Standing redeemed indeed,
Shall help rebuild the State
Firm and regenerate,
Ne'er to be torn again
By factions dire;
Ne'er to be rent in twain
By Treason's ire!