Dear
JSALT Members, Alumni, & Friends:
150
years ago this week, the American Civil War came to an end (April 9th),
and President Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by a Confederate sympathizer
(April 14th) and died the next morning (April 15th). To
help us remember those momentous happenings in April 1865, here are some
reflections on the Civil War and Father Abraham, in both poetry and prose.
“Battle
Cry of Freedom” (1862)
Composed
by George Frederick Root (1820–1895)
1.
Yes we’ll rally round the flag, boys, we’ll rally once again,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom,
We
will rally from the hillside, we’ll gather from the plain,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
Chorus:
The
Union forever! Hurrah, boys, hurrah!
Down
with the traitors, up with the stars;
While
we rally round the flag, boys, we rally once again,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
2.
We are springing to the call of our brothers gone before,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
And
we’ll fill our vacant ranks with a million freemen more,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
(Chorus)
3.
We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true and brave,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
And
although they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting
the battle cry of freedom!
(Chorus)
4.
So we’re springing to the call from the East and from the West,
Shouting
the battle cry of Freedom;
And
we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land we love best,
Shouting
the battle cry of Freedom.
(Chorus)
Poem
on the 100th Anniversary of the Birth of Abraham Lincoln (1909)
By
Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910)
(Note:
Howe was also the author of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” in 1861.)
Through
the dim pageant of the years
A
wondrous tracery appears:
A
cabin of the western wild
Shelters
in sleep a new-born child.
Nor
nurse, nor parent dear can know
The
way those infant feet must go;
And
yet a nation’s help and hope
Are
sealed within that horoscope.
Beyond
is toil for daily bread,
And
thought, to noble issues led,
And
courage, arming for the morn
For
whose behest this man was born.
A
man of homely, rustic ways,
Yet
he achieves the forum’s praise,
And
soon earth’s highest meed has won,
The
seat and sway of Washington.
No
throne of honors and delights;
Distrustful
days and sleepless nights,
To
struggle, suffer and aspire,
Like
Israel, led by cloud and fire.
A
treacherous shot, a sob of rest,
A
martyr’s palm upon his breast,
A
welcome from the glorious seat
Where
blameless souls of heroes meet;
And,
thrilling through unmeasured days,
A
song of gratitude and praise;
A
cry that all the earth shall heed,
To
God, who gave him for our need.
Leo
Tolstoy (1828-1910) on Abraham Lincoln
Printed
in the New York World – 1909
“Of
all the great national heroes and statesmen of history Lincoln is the only real
giant. Alexander, Frederick the Great, Caesar, Napoleon, Gladstone and even
Washington stand in greatness of character, in depth of feeling and in a
certain moral power far behind Lincoln. Lincoln was a man of whom a nation has
a right to be proud; he was a Christ in miniature, a saint of humanity, whose
name will live thousands of years in the legends of future generations. We are
still too near to his greatness, and so can hardly appreciate his divine power;
but after a few centuries more our posterity will find him considerably bigger
than we do. His genius is still too strong and too powerful for the common
understanding, just as the sun is too hot when its light beams directly on us.”
“Lincoln”
by Vachel Lindsay (1879-1931)
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.
In
memoriam Patris Abrahami,
Robertus :)
“Your task is not to foresee the future, but to enable it.”
-- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (1900-1944): The Wisdom of the
Sands (1948)
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