Poem by Vachel Lindsay

Lincoln

Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all, 
That which is gendered in the wilderness 
From lonely prairies and God’s tenderness. 
Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream, 
Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream, 
Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave, 
Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire — 
Fire that freed the slave.

1. The City That Will Not Repent
2. What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said
3. The Drunkards in the Street
4. What the Ghost of the Gambler Said
5. What the Miner in the Desert Said

Charles Halpine Lincoln ("He filled the Nation's eyes and heart")

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