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Poems about Abraham Lincoln

Poems about Abraham Lincoln are a popular choice for Lincoln's birthday and for Presidents day. Luckily, there are quite a few great choices. So why not get started now?

"Through the dim pageant of the years" by Julia Ward Howe

Written for and read for the one hundred anniversary of the birth of Abraham Lincoln at Symphony Hall, Boston on February 12, 1909.

Through the dim pageant of the years
A wondrous tracery appears:
A cabin of the western wild
Shelters in sleep a new-born child.

Nor nurse, nor parent dear can know
The way those infant feet must go;
And yet a nation's help and hope
Are sealed within that horoscope.

Beyond is toil for daily bread,
And thought, to noble issues led,
And courage, arming for the morn
For whose behest this man was born.

A man of homely, rustic ways,
Yet he achieves the forum's praise,
And soon earth's highest meed has won,
The seat and sway of Washington.

No throne of honors and delights ;
Distrustful days and sleepless nights,
To struggle, suffer and aspire,
Like Israel, led by cloud and fire.

A treacherous shot, a sob of rest,
A martyr's palm upon his breast,
A welcome from the glorious seat
Where blameless souls of heroes meet;

And, thrilling through unmeasured days,
A song of gratitude and praise;
A cry that all the earth shall heed,
To God, who gave him for our need.

"Abraham Lincoln." by Berton Bellis

Down thru endless ages,
Came a soul from others apart--
Incased in a body of awkward appearance ;
But in a true heavenly made heart.
He was born in a hewed log cabin,
Grew up simple and plain ;
This life—on earth a sacrifice,
To remove from liberty a stain.

No pen can give him due credit--
No words the good of his mind ;
But his love is forever burning,
In the hearts of all human kind.
The world now bows to his honor,
And hail this emancipator's name ;
Columbia is proud of his memory,
He lives in everlasting fame.

His life of bitter sorrow,
Hard work and saddened tears,
Has made happy millions of humans,
And will for the future years.
O, Father, hear us in heaven !
May his reward increase ten-fold !
To repay for the great good he did us,
While his clay on earth lies cold.

His life is a lesson for the living,
Shows democracy is strength and sand,
That a good mind no matter how humble,
Can spread peace and love o'er the land.
"In God we trust"--our nation all--
Our reward was grand and kind,
For we'll always live and never fall !
By following this wonderful mind.

"O Captain! My Captain!" by Walt Whitman

Edited after learning of Lincoln's death.

I.
O captain! my captain! our fearless trip is done;
The ship has weathered 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.

II.
O captain! my captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up! for you the flag is flung, for you the bugle trills:
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths, for you the shores a-crowding:
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
	O captain! dear father!
	This arm beneath your head;
	Is is some dream that on the deck
		You've fallen cold and dead.

III.
My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and sill :
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will.
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done:
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
	Exult O shores! and ring, O bells!
	But I, with silent tread,
	Walk the spot my captain lies
		Fallen cold and dead.

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