[Illustration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN AND HIS SON THOMAS ("TAD")] Benjamin Franklin Taylor, born at Lowville, New York, July 19, 1819. He was for several years connected with the _Chicago Evening Journal_. He wrote _Pictures of Life in Camp and Field_ (1871); _The World on Wheels_, etc. (1874); _Songs of Yesterday_ (1877); _Between the Gates_ (1878); _Summer Savory_, etc. (1879); _Dulce Domum_ (1884); _Theophilus Trent_, a novel (1887); etc. Among his best known poems are: _Isle of the Long Ago_, _Rhymes of the River_, and _The Old Village Choir_. LINCOLN'S SECOND INAUGURAL The following is an excerpt from a _Centennial Poem_ read by B. F. Taylor on Decoration Day (May 30, 1876), on the occasion of the centennial celebration by the Department of the Potomac, Grand Army of the Republic, at Arlington Cemetery, Washington, D. C. They see the pilgrims to the Springfield tomb-- Be proud today, oh, portico of gloom!-- Where lies the man in solitary state Who never caused a tear but when he died And set the flags around the world half-mast-- The gentle Tribune and so grandly great That e'en the utter avarice of Death That claims the world, and will not be denied, Could only rob him of his mortal breath. How strange the splendor, though the man be past! His noblest inspiration was his last. The statues of the Capitol are there. As when he stood upon the marble stair And said those words so tender, true and just, A royal psalm that took mankind on trust-- Those words that will endure and he in them, While May wears flowers upon her broidered hem, And all that marble snows and drifts to dust: "Fondly do we hope, fervently we pray That this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away: With charity for all, with malice toward none, With firmness in the right As God shall give us light, Let us finish the work already begun, Care for the battle sons, the Nation's wounds to bind, Care for the helpless ones that they will leave behind, Cherish it we will, achieve it if we can, A just and lasting peace, forever unto man!" Amid old Europe's rude and thundering years, When people strove as battle-clouds are driven, One calm white angel of a day appears In every year a gift direct from Heaven, Wherein, from setting sun to setting sun No thought of deed of bitterness was done. "Day of the Truce of God!" Be this day ours, Until perpetual peace flows like a river And hopes as fragrant as these tribute flowers Fill all the land forever and forever! [Illustration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN