The life and public services of Abraham Lincoln ... together with his state papers, including his speeches, addresses, messages, letters, and proclamations, and the closing scenes connected with his life and death. By Henry J. Raymond. To which are added anecdotes and personal reminiscences of President Lincoln, by Frank B. Carpenter.

728 THE LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
have I, but I may never live to see it. I feel a presentiment that I
shall not outlast the rebellion. When it is over, my work will be
done."
HIS FAVORITE POEM.
The evening of March 22d, 1864, was a most interesting one to ma.
I was with the President alone in his office for several hours. Busy
with pen and papers when I went in, he presently threw them aside
and commenced talking to me of Shakspeare, of whom he was very
fond. Little "* Tad," his son, coming in, he, sent him to the library
for a copy of the plays, and then read to me several of his favorite
passages. Relapsing into a sadder strain, he laid the book aside, and
leaning back in his chair, said:" There is a poem which has been a great favorite with me for years,
which was first shown to me when a young man by a friend, and which
I afterwards saw and cut from a newspaper and learned by heart. I
would," he continued, "give a great deal to know who wrote it, but
I have never been able to ascertain."
Then, half closing his eyes, he repeated the verses to me. Greatly
pleased and interested, I told him I would like some time to write
them down. A day or two afterwards, he asked me to accompany him
to the temporary studio in the Treasury Department of Mr. Swayne,
the sculptor, who was making a bust of him. While " sitting," it occurred to me that then would be a good opportunity to secure the
lines. He very willingly complied with my request to repeat them,
and, sitting upon some books at his feet, as nearly as I remember, I
wrote the verses down, one by one, as he uttered them:*Oh I why should the spirit of mortal be proud?Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.
The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.
The infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother, that infant's affection who proved
* The authorship of this poem has been made known since its publication in the Evening
Poet. It was written by William Knox, a young Scotchman, a contemporary of Sir Walter
Scott-who thought highly of his promise. He died quite young.
The two verses in brackets were not repeated by Mr. Lincoln, but belong to the original
poem.