NcKinley [sic] Dead

“Hats off!” they said,
“The President is dead;”
And somewhere overhead
A dark bell tolled and tolled;

True man, pure soul, brave heart,
How foul a thing to do!
Why didn’t they kill anyone,
Dear President, but you!
But you—how could they dream
A dream of hurt to you,
True American, if ever an American were true.

God knows He knows your worth.
And He knows how much we care.
Ah! I wish you could have seen,
Dear martyr, lying there,
Our eyes before youd [sic] died,
And I wish you could have heard
The little sobbing word
When the news was verified.

Well, a fool has shot you down,
A fool in freedom’s name.
Yet, you’re living all the same;
You’re living in our love,
Though you’re lying in the grave—
True, pure and brave.

The tears of all the world
Lie on your grave like dew;
The eyes of the whole world
Are wet for loss of you.
For you and the brave life
That lived so near to you.