TO LINCOLN'S BUST IN BRONZE by RICHARD WATSON GILDER

THIS bronze doth keep the very form and mould
Of our great martyr's face. Yes. this is he:
That brow all wisdom, all benignity;
That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks
that hold
Like some harsh landscape all the summer's gold;
That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea
For storms to beat on; the lone agony
Those silent, patient lips too well foretold.
Yes, this is he who ruled a world of men
As might some prophet of the elder day, --
Brooding above the tempest and the fray
With deep-eyed thought and more than mortal
ken.
A power was his beyond the touch of art
Of armed strength: his pure and mighty heart.

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