A Small Tribute to the Martyred President McKinley

Mourn, all countries! Toll, sad bells!
     And walk with hushed and quiet tread!
For the leader of a nation lies
     Peaceful—silent! Cold and dead!

While the old flag he loved well
     Is flying at half-mast!
And every nation on the globe
     Stands speechless and aghast—

At the fiendish heart and hand,
     Inspired by words of hate,
Which hurled a bullet, swift and sure
     At a hero good and and [sic] great.

And we cry with trembling voice—
     Oh, God! Our help must come
From thy great tender heart of love;
     “Thy will—not ours—be done.”

“Good-bye! Good-bye to all;
     ’Tis God’s way; He knows best!”
And quietly the martyred one
     Sank to his last long rest.

He does not hear our cries;
     He does not feel the thrill
That stirs the land from east to west,
     For he lies pale and still!

So wreathe sad emblems! Toll, deep bells!
     And walk with quiet tread;
For the hero of a nation lies
     Peaceful—silent. Cold and dead.