STERN be the pilot in the dreadful hour
When a great nation, like a ship at sea
With the wroth breakers whitening at her lee,
Feels her last shudder if her helmsman cower;
A godlike manhood be his mighty dower!
Such and so gifted, Lincoln, mayst thou be,
With thy high wisdom’s low simplicity
And awful tenderness of voted power.
From our hot records then thy name shall stand
On Time’s calm ledger out of passionate days—
With the pure debt of gratitude begun,
And only paid in never-ending praise—
One of the many of a mighty Land,
Made by God’s providence the Anointed One.
John James Piatt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-abraham-lincoln/
