Lincoln fell. The moment that the spirit of this martyr passed from earth to heaven, the chains fell from the limbs of four millions of people, and the doom of slavery was sealed forever! The 14th of April, 1865, may be dated as an era in our country’s history long to be remembered, for Abraham Lincoln died in carrying out his great work of emancipation. He lived to see the last battle fought, lived till the power of the rebellion was broken, and then, having finished the work for which God had sent him, he passed away from this world to that high and glorious realm where the patriot and the good shall live forever. “For the stars on our banner grown suddenly dim, Let us weep in our sorrow, but weep not for him; Not for him who departing leaves millions in tears, Not for him who has died full of honors and years, Not for him who ascended fame’s ladder so high, From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky: It is blessed to go when so ready to die.” _OUR NATIONAL GRIEF._ The murder of Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, on the 14th of April, 1865. WRITTEN BY LAURA L. REES. The drapery of death enshrouds, In its dark, funereal pall, Each quiet home. Its gloomy shade Reveals the grief of all. A country mourns. The moaning winds Sigh requiems of woe; E’en from the shifting clouds the tears In crystal showers flow. Our Father’s dead! from our sad hearts Goes up one burden’d strain, Till every trait of his great life As monuments remain. We fondly, thro’ the vista dim, Our tearful visions cast, And live in memory o’er again Each history of the past. We watch him in the ship of state, On a treacherous, bloody tide: ’Neath his firm hand the nation’s bark In triumph on shall ride. His eagle eye, through shadows dark, Still saw the beacon light; His heart, unwavering, placed its trust In God and freedom’s right. Now came the promised shore in view, Now dawned the glorious day; The darksome river brighter grew, Reflecting victory’s ray Rebellion falls—a bleeding form— Upon the crimson deck; While Slavery sinks beneath the stream, A black, dismantled wreck. A peaceful rainbow bends its hues Across the mighty strand; It faded soon:—a ruler loved Fell ’neath a traitor’s hand. Mid festive scenes the assassin comes To act the dastard deed: The nation’s heart was wounded When she saw the patriot bleed. The stripes that deck Columbia’s flag Grew pallid at the sight; The brilliant galaxy of stars Flashed with a vivid light. The unseen spirit of our land Seem’d living in her wrath, And threw the starry banner’s folds Across the murderer’s path. But from her clasp the assassin fled, Like all the rebel horde, Who spurn our colors with their heel, And grasp the traitor’s sword.