Show 15 if 44 it t A JN 1 I V P ILI t U s 0 t ra I 1 ro FA peem I 1 1 TJ F abraham I 1 lincoln it t was mas once slid said that the tha PJ 4 prevailing sentiment ot of plu his row powerful ow erful yet sail sad countenance was aia ex cx in the lire oh ob m why b y should the spirit ot of mortal be proud tl TI e sympathetic observer who lound found thero so splendid i signia signi fl cance guessed the so that tha t lay hy within with alm almost st clairvoyant insight thit that is the be opening line ot of the poem which v as lincoln s favorite it was written rit ten by a young scotchman who died at the ago agi of 37 7 the ago age fatal to burns bvron motherwell and aad other gifted poets to tho thoe c who appreciate meritorious mentor loui verse the same pleasure can he be enjoyed here in the reading of the poem in its completeness is an was vouchsafe vouch sat eit cd lincoln on that night of rare peace a and n d talk of beauty amid the tumult ol of wa war r and stress of his peoples peril this 1 la the porm ln in full 11 mortality oh airily should thi arit p alt of mortal b 1 alke i a s swift aft fl orting a fast fly ing in cind A tt fl vh 0 of the lightning a break of th tin wave wane ite he pis pith rth from lift to his rest in tho grae crae the icardi if ires of the th oak an aal tho the vallo hall faan v vp aral tere I 1 aanund and t aler bp I 1 lil an 3 the oun ind and tie tt e old and the ioa lo 10 annl the 1 elgh agh shall moulder to 0 o dust and lier shan shall lie the font and mother atten attended led ani and 0 o boned ed the m matt tl r that infants infant a wh the huc hinl that mother and infant wh tl aed each cach ill are away to their div dwellings ellIngs ol oi rest resl 1 the maid on 01 who check on aboss who brow in waso e shon I 1 pau tv ind and pleasure her triumphs ar by 1 and the he armor mori of at those that beloved hr h hr r in I 1 brals praised d are allba from the minds of the livinia erased the haill ot of the king kin that the scepter ila hith h borne born braw the brew of 0 the priest that the mitel hath morn the ev cv of the sage and the heart of tbt th araie lra 0 are I 1 I 1 cn and lost in the depths of thi th grane crave the whisp lot was to sew an tn in rip rap the who clinched climbed with hu hil poat u up p the steep the anat acir ir who in search ch 01 hi chiq tread haap iia P ditled away like the grass that wi tread ilie R int that enjoyed the communion 01 n hiven li iven the inn r that dared to remain anft unfits glen ghen the icse and the foolish the guilty ranil just lla ha let mingled their bones in ln lilt dust so bo tho th multitude goes like the flower oi 01 the weed to anat at iway away to tn it ct others other vuc succeed cec 0 o t the hn mu multitude corner comer even thos ws behon to every tale that h has as often been toll por per w WP are the same as our fathers hav ep b n we c e th thia sime same bights that our catheri 1 ae en we drink the same stream and view the th same run eun and run ahn th same course our fathers hae hac run the tl it we are arc thinking our father would think from the dath iv aft arn shrinking out our fathers would eibrink to ahn th pr lire we e ore clining clinging they also alsa would cling but it rp atis Is for us all like a bird on the wing in am pd ed but ahn th story we cannot ur un fol I 1 TI tha i arnd but th heart of the th hau elit 1 ia coll 1 1 l hey gr ardd I 1 d but tie no wall from t c e alum br coin they jed J aed ed but blit the tongue of their gladne glada nea a Is 13 dumb the th di all I 1 a I 1 I 1 the hea died we things that irp ar now that balk ilk on the turf thit that lles lies over their broil bro and mil c in their a transient tran lent abri drip if meet alo c that they met on their II 11 g reri real lest est ll 11 hae te and d pleasure an and pain wo we n ingan together in and rain an ani I 1 tho the mlle and aej tho the tear tile tho son sons and the dirge still rc 11 aw each other like surge upon surge tile the wink of an eye the drought draught of a breath from fro tic ta 0 bl m 0 of f health to the palo pale m ness 1 of death from the e glided elidea saloon to tho the bler bier and the shroud ohl wh vyt should tile spirit of mort be b proud |