of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit.

Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately 45 awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life.

Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings; and, although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther,

they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to 50 us a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness.

I have not allowed myself to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that

unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed 55 myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with

my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe counselor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not

how the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be 60 the condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed.

While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day, at

least, that curtain may not rise,—that on my vision never may be 65 opened what lies behind.

When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union-on States dissevered,

discordant, belligerent,-on a land rent with civil feuds, or 70 drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and

lingering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original luster,

not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing 75 for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as, “What is all this

worth ?” nor those other words of delusion and folly, “Liberty first and Union afterward”; but everywhere, spread all over in char

acters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float

over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole 80 heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart,



ABRAHAM LINCOLN Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war; testing whether 5 that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can

long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that

nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we 10 should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate-we can not consecrate-we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far above

our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, 15 nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget

what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to

be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that 20 from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that

cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotionthat we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth

of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, 25 for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Historical: At the dedication of the national cemetery at Gettysburg, November 19, 1863, President Lincoln was asked to be present and

say a few words. This address has become a classic. Edward Everett, the orator who had delivered the long address of the day wrote to Mr. Lincoln, “I should be glad if I could flatter myself that I came as near the central idea of the occasion in two hours as you did in two minutes."

Several versions of the speech have appeared, but the one here printed was given out by President Lincoln himself as the authorized version. See “Lincoln's Gettysburg Address,” Century Magazine, Feb., 1894.



WHEN the Norn-Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour,
Greatening and darkening as it hurried on,
She bent the strenuous Heavens and came down
To make a man to meet the mortal need.
She took the tried clay of the common road-
Clay warm yet with the genial heat of Earth,
Dashed through it all a strain of prophecy;
Then mixed a laughter with the serious stuff.
It was a stuff to wear for centuries,
A man that matched the mountains, and compelled
The stars to look our way and honor us.
The color of the ground was in him, the red earth;
The tang and odor of the primal things-
The rectitude and patience of the rocks;
The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn;
The courage of the bird that dares the sea;
The justice of the rain that loves all leaves;
The pity of the snow that hides all scars;
The loving kindness of the wayside well;
The tolerance and equity of light
That gives as freely to the shrinking weed
As to the great oak flaring to the wind -
To the grave's low hill as to the Matterhorn
That shoulders out the sky.

And so he came.
From prairie cabin up to capitol

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One fair ideal led our chieftain on.
Forevermore he burned to do his deed
With the fine stroke and gesture of a king.
He built the rail-pile as he built the State,
Pouring his splendid strength through every blow,
The conscience of him testing every stroke,
To make his deed the measure of a man.

the held the ridoosers from their annook the house

So came the Captain with the mighty heart:
And when the step of Earthquake shook the house,
Wrenching the rafters from their ancient hold,
He held the ridge-pole up, and spiked again
The rafters of the Home. He held his place—
Held the long purpose like a growing tree-
Held on through blame and faltered not at praise.
And when he fell in whirlwind, he went down
As when a kingly cedar green with boughs
Goes down with a great shout upon the hills,
And leaves a lonesome place against the sky.

Biographical: Edwin Markham was born in Oregon, taught school in California, and more recently has been a resident of Brooklyn. His poem “The Man with the Hoe" brought him immediate fame.


O CAPTAIN! my Captain ! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart ! heart! heart !
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; 10 Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbond wreaths—for you the shores

a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here, Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head !
It is some dream that on the deck

You've fallen cold and dead.


My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, 20 From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores ! and ring, 0 bells !
But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,
: Fallen cold and dead.

Biographical and Historical: Walt Whitman will always be remem. bered as the author of this poem. It differs from his other poems in that it shows a great deal of attention to form, to metre, and rhyme. He wrote not so much with the aim to please as to arouse and uplift. He was very democratic in his taste, and loved to mingle with the crowds on the ferries and omnibuses. At different times he was school teacher, carpenter, and journalist. This poem was written in appreciation of Lincoln, at the time of his death.




The period for a new election of a Citizen, to administer the Executive Government of the United States, being not far distant,

and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be employed 5 in designating the person, who is to be clothed with that important

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