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 ribbon'd 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; From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won. Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. _Walt Whitman_ THE UNFINISHED WORK The crowd was gone, and to the side Of Borglum's Lincoln, deep in awe, I crept. It seemed a mighty tide Within those aching eyes I saw. "Great heart," I said, "why grieve alway? The battle's ended, and the shout Shall ring forever and a day-- Why sorrow yet, or darkly doubt?" "Freedom," I plead, "so nobly won For all mankind, and equal right, Shall with the ages travel on Till time shall cease, and day be night." No answer--then; but up the slope With broken gait, and hands in clench, A toiler came, bereft of hope, And sank beside him on the bench. _Joseph Fulford Folsom_ ACROSTIC (Written by a fifth grade child) L is for Lincoln, brave and true I is for the Iron nerve which helped him through N is for Nation whose tongue sings his praise C is for Colors on his birthday we raise O is for Oration or speech he gave L is for Liberty given the slave N is his Name which ever we'll save [Illustration: Statue of Lincoln by Gutzon Borglum In front of Court House, Newark] THE BOY THAT HUNGERED FOR KNOWLEDGE In his eagerness to acquire knowledge, young Lincoln had borrowed of Mr. Crawford, a neighboring farmer, a copy of Weems' Life of Washington--the only one known to be in existence in that section of the country. Before he had finished reading the book, it had been left, by a not unnatural oversight, in a window. Meantime, a rain storm came on, and the book was so thoroughly wet as to make it nearly worthless. This mishap caused him much pain; but he went, in all honesty, to Mr. Crawford with the ruined book, explained the calamity that had happened through his neglect, and offered, not having sufficient money, to "work out" the value of the book.