Not in Vain

As one who sits in gloom, the nation mourns.
The path unto the grave—a veilèd path
While men brought merchandise, and ate, and slept—
Has been laid open to the people’s soul.
Like as the sunlight bursts through darkening clouds,
So for a moment has a farther light
Shone through the mortal wound of our dead chief,
To quicken seed that lay in lethargy
Of self-security and stagnant peace.
And let the tearful clouds that darken now
This goodly land of freedom and of light,
Water the grain unto the harvesting
Of clearer sight and purer liberty.