_By James M. Stewart_
Let the President sleep! all his duty is done,
He has lived for our glory, the triumph is won;
At the close of the fight, like a warrior brave,
He retires from the field to the rest of the grave.
Hush the roll of the drum, hush the cannon's loud roar,
He will guide us to peace through the battle no more;
But new freedom shall dawn from the place of his rest,
Where the star has gone down in the beautiful West.
Tread lightly, breathe softly, and gratefully bring
To the sod that enfolds him the first flowers of spring;
They will tenderly treasure the tears that we weep
O'er the grave of our chief--let the President sleep.
Let the President sleep--tears will hallow the ground,
Where we raise o'er his ashes the sheltering mound,
And his spirit will sometimes return from above,
There to mingle with ours in ineffable love.
Peace to thee, noble dead, thou hast battled for right,
And hast won high reward from the Father of Light;
Peace to thee, martyr-hero, and sweet be thy rest,
Where the sunlight fades out in the beautiful West.
Tread lightly, breathe softly, and gratefully bring
To the sod that enfolds him the first flowers of spring;
They will tenderly treasure the tears that we weep
O'er the grave of our chief--let the President sleep!
[Illustration: FACADE OF PUBLIC VAULT
Oak Ridge Cemetery, Springfield, Illinois, in which the body
of Lincoln was placed, May 4, 1865]
James Mackay, born in New York, April 8, 1872. Author of _The Economy
of Happiness_, _The Politics of Utility_, and of various lectures on
Scientific Ethics, etc.