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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532649" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is portentous, and a thing of state<br>That here at midnight, in our little town<br>A mourning figure walks, and will not rest,<br>Near the old court-house pacing up and down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or by his homestead, or in shadowed yards<br>He lingers where his children used to play,<br>Or through the market, on the well-worn stones<br>He stalks until the dawn-stars burn away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A bronzed, lank man! His suit of ancient black,<br>A famous high top-hat and plain worn shawl<br>Make him the quaint great figure that men love,<br>The prairie-lawyer, master of us all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He cannot sleep upon his hillside now.<br>He is among us: -- as in times before!<br>And we who toss and lie awake for long<br>Breathe deep, and start, to see him pass the door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His head is bowed. He thinks on men and kings.<br>Yea, when the sick world cries, how can he sleep?<br>Too many peasants fight, they know not why,<br>Too many homesteads in black terror weep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sins of all the war-lords burn his heart.<br>He sees the dreadnaughts scouring every main.<br>He carries on his shawl-wrapped shoulders now<br>The bitterness, the folly and the pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He cannot rest until a spirit-dawn<br>Shall come; -- the shining hope of Europe free;<br>The league of sober folk, the Workers' Earth,<br>Bringing long peace to Cornwall, Alp and Sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It breaks his heart that kings must murder still,<br>That all his hours of travail here for men<br>Seem yet in vain. And who will bring white peace<br>That he may sleep upon his hill again?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Vachel+Lindsay">Vachel Lindsay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532649" data-title="Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight de Vachel Lindsay" data-description="It is portentous, and a thing of state
That here at midnight, in our little town
A mourning figure walks, and will not rest,
Near the old court-house pacing up and down.

Or by his homestead, or in shadowed yards
He lingers where his children used..."></div>
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