| Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | Twilight Hours.
XI. President Lincoln | | By Sarah Williams (“Sadie”) (1841–1868) |
| | | “THEY killed him then? the cowards—be it so! | |
| Henceforth he is immortal—President, | |
| Until the dead shall waken: none may know | |
| His term of office now, nor how ’tis spent. | |
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| “His life is rounded off and perfect now; | 5 |
| It reached its fitting climax when great Death | |
| Herself stooped down to crown the victor’s brow, | |
| And set the seal of silence on his breath. | |
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| “Nor foe nor friend can fret him into speech; | |
| He shines as calmly as some distant star, | 10 |
| Whose light these lower worlds of ours can reach, | |
| While not a cloud doth e’er extend so far. | |
| |
| “Silent and grand, embalmed in suffering, | |
| What monarch ever lay in state like this? | |
| We dare not weep, we hear the angels sing, | 15 |
| Exultant, as they welcome him to bliss.” | | | | |
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