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A nation weeps to her outstretch’d confines,
Her tears profound obliterate party lines;
East, West, North, South, united in one globe,
Are now enwrapped in one deep mourning robe.

Offended Liberty enveils a blushing face,
Humanity condoles with an afflicted race:
McKinley’s tragic end! Justice, though blind,
The misdeed to avenge, her way will find!

Our glorious country shall no longer breed
A pestilentious crop from spurious seed;
Columbia must purge out her threshing floor
And anarchy swift winnowed from her door.

“Thy will be done” and “Nearer, my God, to Thee,”
McKinley’s prayers henceforth our own shall be;
Roosevelt we hail, his purposes to deal,
Though dead yet speaketh in his country’s weal!