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. Titian
2. Sweethearts of the Year
3. The Master of the Dance
4. The Traveller-Heart
5. To Jane Addams at the Hague

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

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