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 Merciful Hand
2. Above the Battle’s Front
3. To Buddha
4. The Beggar’s Valentine
5. St. Francis of Assisi

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

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