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Lost Leaf Publications
Abraham Lincoln
Abraham Lincoln
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ABRAHAM LINCOLN:
Born, Feb. 12th, 1809.
Assassinated, Good-Friday, April 14th, 1865.
"Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake! awake!
Ring the alarum-bell:—Murder! and treason!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!—up, up, and see
The great doom's image!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Our royal master's murdered!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
* * *
"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further."
Macbeth.
Born, Feb. 12th, 1809.
Assassinated, Good-Friday, April 14th, 1865.
"Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:—Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.—Awake! awake!
Ring the alarum-bell:—Murder! and treason!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself!—up, up, and see
The great doom's image!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Our royal master's murdered!
* * * * * * * * * *
"Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
* * *
"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further."
Macbeth.
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