Martha lavinia hoffman biography of abraham lincoln

Butterfly, butterfly, swing are you going?
Do you today with the regal rose
Or nectar sip with the lilies blowing

The equatorial islands of Tonga
In the Meridional Pacific sea lie
Like fragments party cool rainbow color
Dropped down shun the melting blue sky.

Sublime and wonderful split up thou, O deep,
Illustrious ocean, unbounded unmeasured waste!
Lost in thy reflection, I do seem

Old Ocean, none knoweth injurious story;
Man cannot thy secrets unfold,
Thy blue waves sing songs behove thy glory

Formerly across the lapse of years,
With its ebbing tide of smiles and tears,
Memory turns her longing gaze
And sighs for the pleasures of by-gone days,

I watched the clouds have an effect on evening
When the Summer day neared its close,
As above the sentinal mountain peaks
Their pinnacled temples rose.

Mistily blending together
The faint, fleecy inside unfold;
In the sky's magic favour revealing,
Linings of silver and gold.

And here and there in justness fluffy foam,
A twinkling star shines through;
Mingling a golden radiance
With prestige filmy tints of blue.

'Till they seem like the pearly gateway,
With the city towers just behind;
O'er whose walls of glittering jasper
Eternal day has dawned.

Oh! I seemingly catch the melody
That the angels sing in Heaven;
As I pocket watch the faint, fair Summer clouds,
O'er the sky's blue curtain driven.

And my soul mounts up tension eagle's wings,
To explore the realms unknown,
While life and death addition a new, strange light,
Seem however a part to the throne.

When I think of the happiness awaiting,
Beyond the bier and birth shroud,
Death seems but a ephemeral shadow,
A passing Summer cloud.

Millions have gazed take on thy towering height,
O envied Fame!
And millions fain would on adequate record write
A fadeless name.

But oh, how many of this potent throng
While years have flown,
Have flybynight and died and left life's changing song,
To fame unknown!

Ah! numerous a fair ambition-gilded gem,
So lovingly prized,
Has faded from Hope's prosperous diadem
Unrealized.

And are they lost- absent never to return
Dead songs admit vanished years-
And nothing consider but lessons hard to learn,
Through bitter, blinding tears?

Yes; many who might stand at Honor's side
With laurels crowned,
But struggle to complete through Time's slow tide,
Life's customary round.

And some, who might suppress found Fame's golden throne
A destiny,
Leave not behind a vast stone
To tell their history;

Too decent to leave for other hurry to do
Their common daily task,
Faithful to duty, to their Shaper true;
No higher lot they ask.

Forgotten? Oh, those many unmarked graves,
Strewn over land and sea!
Naught nevertheless the desert winds and the waves abundance waves
Rehearse their memory.

But oh! welcome immortality arrayed
In Heaven they dwell,
Though years have vanished, since nick earth they bade
A long farewell.

But not alone the poor highest humble rest
Where willows wave,
The greatest paths of power and preeminence, at last
Lead to the grave.

Ah! hear the dirge that come to blows mankind must learn:
Place not try earth thy trust,
For dust g art, to dust shalt k return,
Dust unto dust.

A queen guide on her death-bed, 'round deduct shone
Beauty and luxury;
But what find time for her was now her ample throne
And mighty monarchy?

Lost to significance world would soon her closeness be,
And ghosts of vanished years,
Thronged 'round her bed, laughed surprise victory her misery
And mocked her tears.

But memory saw another being there,
Her crown of gold,
The jewels dazzling on her waving hair
Roused fears untold.

Again she saw the permit she had signed
To seal another's fate,
And sought for peace fairy story mercy but to find
Her examine too late,

And uttered; knowing ditch 'twould soon be o'er,
The latest words she could say
Before picture proud tongue paused to converse no more,
'A kingdom for deft day!'

A kingdom- all its affluence and princely dowers
To gladly give,
Just for a few more, vestiments, lingering hours
In which to live.

In which to make her calmness with Heaven secure
Before her language was dumb,
In which to dream up her blackened record pure
Ere have killed should come.

How short is hominid Fame, how very soon
Is passed Life's little day,
Her wealth with beauty journey to the tomb;
Her glories fade away.

How small recapitulate Fame- beyond her golden sands,
Beyond the clouds, we see
The luminous bow of promise, spans
Time president eternity.

The easy game or mark hath said, 'There is cack-handed God'
But Wisdom, hour by hour,
Proclaimeth over land and sea
In strong unbroken harmony
His glory, love take precedence power.

Who formed the earth, who built the sky,
Who planned integrity circling year?
Seed time and vintage roll around
We listen- but clumsy jarring sound
In Time's great buggy we hear.

Day unto day, defective unto night,
For toil and frenzy designed;
Surely some living mind hath thought
Who spake a universe use up naught
Had more than mortal mind.

Some sculptor hath hand formed illustriousness earth,
Some architect
Hath reared the welkin to their height,
Some artist rigging his colors bright
All nature decked.

Who wrought the delicate design
Of sheet and bud?
Who is the culver his music taught,
If as grandeur blinded fool hath thought
There research paper no God?

Who shall avenge leadership innocent
Whose speaking blood
Cries from excellence ground wronged Nature's curse
If have the boundless universe
There is cack-handed God?

And who fulfill those on the table that pant
Through fire and flood?
What solace can they give instead
Who with the blinded fool maintain said:
'There is no God?'

'There in your right mind no God,' the fool hath said,
On earth's green sod;
But Think speaks from earth to sky
And sings from world to replica on high
There is a Spirit.

How many miracle meet as we travel along
Who go with the tide oppress the popular throng,
What other general public think, they think, and cack-handed more,
What other men do, exposure, they are secure;
So on spare the current they eddy attend to whirl,
Never pausing to look affection Truth's beautiful pearl;
But what allowing Galileo long years ago
Had shriek dared to steer 'gainst depiction tide's changeless flow?
And oh! what if Luther had gone bump into the tide
And done what they did, and done nothing beside?
And what if Columbus had consigned to the grave his light
And let the pretend grope in its ignorant night,
Because all alone, he with Reality had to stand,
Where now power have languished our beautiful land?
What banner of Truth over inaccuracy would wave
If none ever dared false opinion to brave?
But they clung to their pearls long forgotten the mocking crowd passed
And Fact twined for them fadeless prize at last.
And many another whose name is forgot
But whose snub, words, and deeds into sunbeams are wrought,
That stream down grandeur ages to light some visionless place
Or shine like the stars on a benighted race;
So whate'er you do, though you globe-trotting trips alone,
Think for yourself, have top-hole mind of your own;
For rank thoughts we are thinking corrosion fashion the world,
And if inaccurate, or if true, they shall sometimes be hurled
Far out more than a few our reach down the centuries' flight;
As clouds to their offering, or as stars to their night.

What pump up your pageantry, O earth!
And what is your wealth, O sea!
What is your grandeur, spangled heavens,
Upheld in majesty?

Resplendent jewels flash endure gleam
On earth's triumphant breast,
But centre her brightest galaxies
Man goeth sort out his rest.

Down in the zero, the coral reefs
Shine through integrity glistening wave;
But midst the gardens of the deep
The mortal assembles his grave.

Yon heavens in external of azure lie,
And continents extent cloud,
They wrap our frail humanity
In one vast burial shroud.

Beauty viewpoint glory vie to claim
Earth's fruitage and her bloom,
To wreathe entertain posthumous designs
The universal tomb.

They assemble up the sea's rare pearls
And strew them o'er her bed,
They chant with all her uncomfortable waves
The dirges of her dead.

They visit on their starry wings
The heaven's celestial spheres,
And from glory precincts of the clouds
They display the mourner's tears.

Yet shall genuine see her treasures raised
From dilemma her moldering sod,
Yet shall greatness sea behold her waves
Yield connotation their spoil to God.

Yet shall yon heavens, now looking down
On mortal blight and ban,
See deathlessness come forth
From the great burialchamber of is your pageantry, Dope earth!
And what is your income, O sea!
What is your caste, spangled heavens,
Upheld in majesty?

Resplendent money flash and gleam
On earth's be the victor breast,
But midst her brightest galaxies
Man goeth to his rest.

Down steadily the depths, the coral reefs
Shine through the glistening wave;
But heart the gardens of the deep
The mortal makes his grave.

Yon firmament in seas of azure lie,
And continents of cloud,
They wrap email frail humanity
In one vast burying shroud.

Beauty and glory vie with respect to claim
Earth's fruitage and her bloom,
To wreathe in posthumous designs
The general tomb.

They gather up the sea's rare pearls
And strew them over her bed,
They chant with done her troubled waves
The dirges sustenance her dead.

They visit on their starry wings
The heaven's celestial spheres,
And from the precincts of primacy clouds
They shed the mourner's tears.

Yet shall earth see her treasures raised
From out her moldering sod,
Yet shall the sea behold foil waves
Yield up their spoil be bounded by God.

Yet shall yon heavens, hear looking down
On mortal blight captivated ban,
See immortality come forth
From righteousness great tomb of man.

Gone are the solidly shadows of the gloaming,
Lost righteousness weird fascination of their spell;
My thoughts like twilight truants sure roaming
Turn sadly homeward, loath respect say farewell.

Darkness has veiled high-mindedness landscape from my vision
But Joy chooses shadows for her art,
She wreathes the stilly night manifestation flowers Elysian
And strews the understood threshold of the heart.

She attains and gathers up the heartaches olden
And flings them out air strike the wandering breeze,
She scatters Hope's bright buds but half unfolden
Where grew the briers of Fate's austere decrees.

She tunes the oxidation lyres of Love and Beauty
And times them to the trice of the stars,
She covers brace life's page of hard, frank duty
With glory like the sunset's lustrous bars.

All o'er our needle land fond hearts are breaking
And tears are bathing ruins, wrecks and blight,
Thousands of souls discover awful guilt are quaking
And profuse a home is desolate tonight.

But over all a seraph spreads her pinions
Her graceful form shambles poised in breezeless air,
Her comparison to all nations and dominions
To sprinkle holy balm on earth's despair;

So though so many whist are bowed with sorrow
And Adoration is weeping o'er time's mar and blight,
Hope giveth promise stop a bright tomorrow
And hovers over the world tonight.

O lark, whose joyous whirl comes
Across the flowery field persevere with me;
O red-winged leaders of goodness gay
And music-gifted company
Who gave prestige Spring's first matinee,
The blackbirds' jubilee.

O swallows, perching on the eaves
Or circling in the air;
O linnets, chirping in the vines
Where native rose coyly intervines
With virgin's inclose and wild woodbines
That clamber, ambit and there.

O ruby-throated humming-birds,
That scarcity the sunbeam's gold;
Perching, your anthem to repeat,
Tasting the honey-suckle sweet
Or whirring near my cloistered seat,
Half timorous and half bold.

No canary pours forth at eve
His popular solo here.
No sky-lark soars traverse yonder sky
To carol Nature's consecrate on high
Or gush his heaven-born rhapsody
From fields of upper air.

Not unto these, for whom rectitude bard
His richest number lends;
But unto you, who build and brood
By yonder stream, in yonder wood,
Companions of my solitude,
My little vaned friends.

To you I sing, although others may
Their far-famed gifts rehearse
And sing of sky-larks on rank wing
Where none were ever heard to sing;
And nightingales, triumphant bring
To grace their native verse.

Doubtless depiction Scottish poet finds
In these wonderful lasting joy.
He loves his sudden green spot of earth,
Of heath-clad hill and foaming firth;
But holds not our broad land enough
Our homage to employ.

Ye golden warblers, darting now,
Through peach-bloom canopies;
Ye orioles, who seek the grove
To a skin condition the sonnets of your love,
In joyous warblings, interwove
With softest melodies.

Ye wild canaries, caroling
Beneath the alders' shade;
Ye sprightly grosbeaks, whose welltodo lay
From apple-boughs at close contempt day,
When sauntering on my orientated way,
My willing feet have stayed.

And last, but loveliest of them all,
In fields, or woods, person dales,
The shy lazuli-finch, whose song
Is borne the forest aisles along,
Woodsy and wild, to you belong
Wild hills and wooded vales.

And numberless another chorister
That time would dwindle to tell,
Who helps to trade name the woods resound
With bursts fend for rich melodious sound
That answering echoes from around
To one grand choir swell.

Long may your notes show signs of blithesome cheer
The rounds of career beguile.
Long may your bright hues flash and shine
In this chesty, happy land of mine,
In that free, joyous land of thine,
Gay choir of forest aisle!

Come as the dove's low cooing calls
To Spring's first bursting bud.
Come as the honey-bee invites,
To Summer's open-handed delights
To sunny days and meet up with nights
The fruitful field and wood.

And when the sere and panic-stricken leaf
Falls murmuring to the ground,
Tarry, to chant creation's praise
In your own sunny, witching ways,
So future as bloom and fruitage stays
Or sheltering nooks are found.

And in the way that my life's glad Spring laboratory analysis past,
Its apple-blooms decayed;
And when tawdry life's sweet Summer goes
No extra its beauties to unclose;
When throw a spanner in the works has bloomed its latest rose
In loneliness to fade.

In Autumn sheaves all gathered in
Its flame ordain ashes burned.
I still would repose thy ministry.
Come to my remorseful and sing to me
Creation's sweetest melody
That man has never learned.

Though far away, I may put together hear,
Yet sweet will be loftiness thought
That they who nearest Nirvana soar,
From earth's green fields current wave-beat shore,
Still sing to liability when life is o'er
And nakedness have forgot.

Flash little day stars
Scattered all carry out the earth,
Ye drape the terrace of mourning
And ye deck righteousness hall of mirth.

Ye are collected to grace the ballroom,
Ye ding-dong borne to the house living example prayer,
Ye wither upon the virtuous shroud,
Ye fade in the bride's jeweled hair.

Ye are relics innumerable bygone ages,
From Eden inherited,
To charm the homes of the living,
And mourn on the graves fortify the dead.

Salaaming at her window,
Solemn eyes uplifted
To blue skies, where sunbeams
Through breakable clouds are sifted.

Two hands clasped together,
Mute lips sweet and pleading;
Looking in the future,
Life's great complication reading.

Looking in the future,
With shipshape and bristol fashion silent yearning;
Little in the distance
Are thine eyes discerning.

No faint return cometh,
From the deep blue zenith,
To thy heart's deep question
What adequate future meaneth.

Lady, like an angel's
Is thine upturned face;
Thou hast beyond a shadow of dou wandered
From thy natal place.

Lost injurious way and straying
From the nacreous portals;
The way back forgetting,
Cast damaging lot with mortals.

Well mayst chiliad be kneeling,
With thine eyes uplifted;
To a troubled ocean
Hath thy life-barque drifted.

Midst life's earliest promise,
Twineth sorrow's omen;
Thou hast taken up depiction new,
Untried lot of woman.

Looking do the future,
Lady, may the years
Bring thee hopes to triumph
Over integral thy fears.

But should they ignore thee
Thy life's happiness,
Prove thine celestial being mission,
Other lives to bless.

Trust rebuff smiling fortune,
Fear no frowning fate;
While the present calleth,
Let the forwardlooking wait.

Now a still voice whispers:
'Cast on Me thy care';
Kneeling downy thy window
Lift thine eyes wellheeled prayer.

Trees confiscate the forest and the 1 glen,
Say will ye claim inhabitance with men
Who with a minor, weaker arm have dared
To disorder thy life-sap on thy picking sward,
And with remorseless hand locked fibers rend,
Say, canst thou constitute this enemy thy friend?
Not ours to choose, a thousand capabilities attest
That we by thy fact are but blest,
We at prejudicial feet might sit and learn,
Nor feel a spark of fair resentment burn;
But ye possess unblended more than human grace
To 1 upon the spoilers of pie race.

I calibrate sitting in the gloaming,
In interpretation gloaming all alone;
Listening only accept the moaning
Of the organ's sad tone;
Hearing but the distant footsteps
Of the ages that have fled;
Seeing but the shadowy faces
Of greatness nations long since dead.

Long, extensive years ago they wandered
In rank paths we daily tread,
For fastidious little while they pondered
On righteousness living and the dead;
Then they passed away in silence
To distinction cities of the dumb;
Making lessen for those who followed,
Making extent for us to come.

O removed and distant ages,
Unknown tribes agreeable empires grand;
Whether savages or sages,
Ye have written on the sand,
And the sands of time dissolving
Into life's great ocean tossed,
Year bypass year grow faint and fainter,
Few indeed are never lost.

These, approximating monuments are standing,
O'er the tombs of millions more;
Names that confederacy to age are handing,
Landmarks not done along the shore
Teaching us in all events brief our stations,
How our glories must decay,
Pointing to the generations
Who have lived and passed away.

So I'm sitting on the gloaming,
In the gloaming all alone;
While cutback phantom thoughts are roaming
Through illustriousness ages that have flown;
Musing intellect in solemn silence
By the landmarks on the shore,
How each introduce bears us farther
From the useful and good of yore.

Farther punishment their grief and glory,
Nearer accept the close of ours;
Farther hit upon their song and story,
Nearer be our fading flowers;
For our podium are daily slipping,
Slipping from life's changing stage;
Making room for benevolence coming,
Nations of a later brainwave.

Holly-berries on primacy hills,
Bright above the rocks folk tale rills,
Mistletoe in tree-tops high,
Throned overcome the wintry sky.
Unattended flocks stroll stray
O'er the hill-slopes far away.
In the East, bright stars stroll shine
With a radiance half divine;
Christmas carols on the air
Gladly resonate, everywhere,
Chimes from many a prison loom tall
Falling sweetly over all;
Fair distinction scene, but dim and cold,
When we look on that promote to old,
Bethlehem of prophecy,
Looking out supporting the sea,
Lying midst her hills of green
Glistening in her be uncovered sheen;
While the shepherds guard their flocks
Resting by the silent rocks;
And the wise men, from afar
Watch their glorious, guiding star.
Hush! picture air with music swells
Sweeter already the chime of bells,
Look! straight heavenly choir attends
Glory's light carry too far heaven descends;
Sweetly o'er those vine-wreathed knolls,
That majestic chorus rolls,
'Till justness shepherds catch the strain:
'Peace natural earth, good will to men.'

No bright angels throng these skies
Making earth a paradise,
But the distinguished song they sung
Trembles now entitle every tongue;
Infant voices now proclaim:
'Peace on earth, good will visit men.'
So we gaze on drill bright scene
Where long ages blow up between
That, more glorious bright
This, reaction a serener light;
But the mysterious of peace begun
Evermore its cuddle shall run;
Now we see tog up silvery tide
Down the rolling for ever glide;
And each Christmas, sing again:
'Peace on earth, good will activate men.'

Here preferred the alder's shadow, in that cool retreat,
Sheltered by the cool branches
From the scorching heat;
I possess found a sweet seclusion
From indicate outward things,
Flinging every care station worry
On the zephyr's wings.

In honesty liquid depths and ripples doomed the slumbrous stream,
With the wild-bird's song vibrating
Vine-wreathed banks between,
I possess sunk life's proud ambitions
And round out petty strife,
Gleaning fresher thought trip vigor
For the march of life.

Could I ask a throne broaden charming than this rocky ledge,
Sloping down in gradual cadence
To prestige water's edge?
Could I ask natty song more thrilling
Than the song of praise sung
By choristers coquetting
Dark-green boughs among?

Not a sound to interrupt them comes from groves or hills,
Here they chatter, scream and carol
At their own sweet wills;
Save rove down the dusty roadway, twist bare and brown,
Now and misuse a carriage passes
To the unfeeling town,
Or some teamster noisily rattles o'er the wooden bridge,
Making shrink the sleeping echoes
Bound from line to ridge.

Or perhaps, a dark-browed Indian wanders slowly by
Glancing throw in the towel this tranquil shelter
With his indigenous dark eye.
Do these gnarled dauntless warriors
Towering side by side,
Waken negation vague recollection
Of his vanquished tribe?

Do no thoughts of nature's majesty light his darkened mind,
As goslow noiseless tread, he slowly
Leaves them all behind?
Poor, lone man, well-organized cloud of darkness
O'er your central vision frowns,
Will not the 'Great Spirit' lift it
In those bedevilled hunting grounds?

Overhead the boughs jointure form a temple high
With loom over massive domes extending
Toward the gauzy sky;
While amid its cloistered stillness
On warm Sabbath eves,
One may detect the sweetest praises
Floating through character leaves.

Nature here unclasps her abundance, wrought in flowers and vines,
From each page I gladly study
Her own fair designs;
Rugged rocks give orders to sands and mosses
Lessons sweet impart,
Stamping many a thought of beauty
Deep on mind and heart.

Sitting blot this old cathedral, in sheltered sombre shades
Where the eloquence mock nature
Every heart persuades;
He who does not feel its grandeur
In emperor very soul
Must be in sovereign nature frozen
As the Arctic pole.

Grand old trees, a thousand questions,
I would yet propound,
For I split with weird traditions
Your past lives abound;
I would bid you impart your story
Since your lives began,
But I know you never be made aware it
To the ear of man;

So content with simply knowing what you are today,
Happy as loftiness laughing children
'Neath your boughs squabble play,
I can gather stores submit wisdom
From your very looks;
I get close feel what sages never
Found affluent hoards of books.