"My friends,--elected by your choice,
From the long-cherished home I go,
Endeared by Heaven-permitted joys,
Sacred by Heaven-permitted woe,
I go, to take the helm of State,
While loud the waves of faction roar,
And by His aid, supremely great,
Upon whose will all tempests wait,
I hope to steer the bark to shore.
Not since the days when Washington
To battle led our patriots on,
Have clouds so dark above us met,
Have dangers dire so close beset.
And _he_ had never saved the land
By deeds in human wisdom planned,
But that with Christian faith he sought
Guidance and blessing, where he ought.
Like him, I seek for aid divine,
His faith, his hope, his trust, are mine.
Pray for me, friends, that God may make
My judgment clear, my duty plain;
For if the Lord no wardship take,
The watchmen mount the towers in vain."
He ceased; and many a manly breast
Panted with strong emotion's swell,
And many a lip the sob suppressed,
And tears from manly eyelids fell.
And hats came off, and heads were bowed,
As Lincoln slowly moved away;
And then, heart-spoken, from the crowd,
In accents earnest, clear, and loud,
Came one brief sentence, "We _will_ pray!"
[Illustration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN AND HIS SECRETARIES,
JOHN G. NICOLAY AND JOHN HAY