Lincoln Day Entertainments. Various

That a nation stops on its way,

       And once a year, with banner and drum,

       Keeps the thoughts of your natal day.

       'Tis splendid to have a record,

       So white and free from stain,

       That, held to the light, it shows no blot,

       Though tested and tried again;

       That age to age forever

       Repeats its story of love,

       And your birthday lives in a nation's heart

       All other days above.

       And this is our Lincoln's glory,

       A steadfast soul and true,

       Who stood for his country's union,

       When his country called him to.

       And now that we once more are one,

       And our flag of stars is flung

       To the breeze in defiant challenge,

       His name is on every tongue.

       Yes, it's splendid to live so bravely,

       To be so great and strong,

       That your memory is ever a tocsin

       To rally the foes of the wrong;

       To live so proudly and purely

       That your people pause in their way,

       And year by year, with banner and drum,

       Keep the thoughts of your natal day.

[C] Adapted by the editor from the author's excellent tribute to Washington. The poem is equally true to the character and work of Lincoln as well as the love for him.

      AT RICHMOND

       Clara J. Denton

      WE HAVE read the stories glowing,

       Found in annals of old,

       Of mighty conquerers marching,

       With cohorts strong and bold:

       We see the proud monarch, riding

       In grand and lofty state,

       We hear the clamor, extolling

       His skill and prowess great.

       But, grander by far the vision

       Modern annals unclose:

       Through the burning streets of Richmond

       Walks Lincoln 'mong his foes.

       Though no pride of state surrounds him,

       On every side we hear:

       "Foh Marsa Linkum, bress de Lawd."

       "De Sabiour now am near."

       "O, honey chile, jes' tech him once!"

       "Suah heben is 'mos' nigh."

       "I's on de mount, O, Gawd, I is."

       "Dis niggah now kin die."

       O, the poor untutored negroes!

       And yet I am sure, to him

       Before those cries of joy and love

       Earth's brightest gauds grew dim.

       And, I think, his heart that morning

       A throb exultant gave;

       For never more his countrymen

       Could know the name of slave!

      LINCOLN

      FROM out the strong young west he came

       In those warlike days of yore,

       When Freedom's cry had reached the sky

       And rung from shore to shore.

       He knew the world was watching him,

       He heard the words of scorn,

       He felt the weight of a severed State

       By cruel rebellion torn.

       But calling on Jehovah,

       He seized his mighty pen

       And with a stroke, the chains he broke

       From a million bonded men.

       He was a dauntless leader

       As among the host he moved,

       And he gave his life in the time of strife

       To save the cause he loved.

      THE FLAG GOES BY

       Henry Holcomb Bennett

      HATS off!

       Along the street there comes

       A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,

       A flash of color beneath the sky;

       Hats off!

       The flag is passing by!

       Blue and crimson and white it shines,

       Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines.

       Hats off!

       The colors before us fly;

       But more than the flag is passing by:

       Sea fights and land fights, grim and great,

       Fought to make and save the State;

       Weary marches and sinking ships;

       Cheers of victory on dying lips;

       Days of plenty and years of peace;

       March of a strong land's swift increase;

       Equal justice, right, and law,

       Stately honor and reverend awe;

       Sign of a nation, great and strong

       To ward her people from foreign wrong;

       Pride and glory and honor—all

       Live in the colors to stand or fall.

       Hats off!

       Along the street there comes

       A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;

       And loyal hearts are beating high.

       Hats off!

       The flag is passing by!

      THE STORY OF LINCOLN

       C. C. Hassler

      TELL to the boys the story of Lincoln,

       Tell it to them when early in youth,

       Tell of his struggles for knowledge to fit him,

       Guide him thro' manhood in honored truth.

       Tell them of Lincoln; yes, tell them the story,

       None more worthy of honor than he;

       None was more proud of our national glory;

       None was more true to the flag of the free.

       Tell to the boys the story of Lincoln;

       Tell of his loyalty, tell of his hate—

       Not toward men, but the infamous measures

       False to the nation, the home and the state.

       Tell them; yes, tell them, his highest ambition

       Was of all men in the nation to stand

       Close to the hearts of the people who loved him—

       Loved him and chose him to rule in the land.

       Tell to the boys the sad story of Lincoln;

       Tell of his trials