 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
133
DEATH OF LINCOLN.
“Make way for liberty,” cried Winkelried,And gathered to his breast the Austrian spears.
Fired with fresh valor at the glorious deed,
O'er the dead hero rushed those mountaineers
To victory and freedom. Even so
Our dear, good Lincoln fell in freedom's cause.
And while our hearts are pierced with keenest woe,
Lo, the black night of slavery withdraws,
And liberty's bright dawn breaks o'er the land.
Four million bondmen, held in helpless thrall,
Loosed by his word, in natures manhood stand,
And the sweet sun of peace shines over all.
The blood that stained the martyr's simple robe
Woke the deep sympathies of half the globe.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |