William Cullen Bryant, "The Death of Lincoln":

Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare
Gentle and merciful an djust!
Who, in the fear of God didst bear
The sword of pwoer, a nation’s trust.
In sorrow by they bier we stand,
Amid the awe that hushes all,
And speak the anguish of a land
That shook with horror at thy fall.

Thy task is done; the bond are free
We bear thee to an honored grave,
Whose proudest monument shall be
The broken fetters of a alave.

Pure was thy life; its bloody close
Hath placed thee with the sons of light,
Among the noblest host of those
Who perished in the cause of right.