A noble man of Christian mind,
Esteemed by one and all,
Was borne from earthly pilgrimage
By a cruel pistol ball.
By an ana[r]chist of foreign birth,
His life was stole away,
His manl[y] form lies silent now
To moulder and decay.
In the midst of life and strains of joy
A villian [sic] loathsome came,
With treacherous grasp of friendship’s hand
Did execute the same,
And by [hi]s vile contrivance,
Was fired the fatal ball,
Which caused our noble President,
To totter back and fall.
“I’m shot,” he cried and as back he fell,
And clasped in friendship’s arm,
And when in agony he said,
“Do not the villian [sic] harm.”
Remembering first that he who bled
On Calvary’s cruel hill,
Did pray His [f]ather to forgive
Those who his life did spill.
“God’s will,” he said, “not ours be done,”
Ere earthly life was o’er,
And ange[l]s carried him on [h]igh,
To Canaan’s brighter s[h]ore.
His earthly crown he laid aside,
His deeds of valour won,
A crown of glory now he wears,
In the bright kingdom com[e].
As soldier for his country fought,
And helped to win her [f]ame,
As son obeyed his father’s will,
And bore his honored name.
As husband was devoted,
To a true and faithful wife,
Who’s [sic] love was in return for his,
More dearer than her life.
A statesman of the foremost type,
Beloved by one and all,
Whose deeds o[f] fame and valour,
Received a nation’s call.
Promoted to the highest rank,
The Presidential chair,
And nobly did he execute
The c[h]arge within his care.
A darksome cloud o’[e]rshades our land
And millions mourn today,
While he who was admired by all,
Lies silent in t[h]e clay;
His body finds a resting place
To moulder and decay,
But with Lincoln, Gar[f]ield and the rest,
His name will live fo[r] aye.