| THERE by the window in the old house | |
| Perched on the bluff, overlooking miles of valley, | |
| My days of labor closed, sitting out life’s decline, | |
| Day by day did I look in my memory, | |
| As one who gazes in an enchantress’ crystal globe, | 5 |
| And I saw the figures of the past, | |
| As if in a pageant glassed by a shining dream, | |
| Move through the incredible sphere of time. | |
| And I saw a man arise from the soil like a fabled giant | |
| And throw himself over a deathless destiny, | 10 |
| Master of great armies, head of the republic, | |
| Bringing together into a dithyramb of recreative song | |
| The epic hopes of a people; | |
| At the same time Vulcan of sovereign fires, | |
| Where imperishable shields and swords were beaten out | 15 |
| From spirits tempered in heaven. | |
| Look in the crystal! See how he hastens on | |
| To the place where his path comes up to the path | |
| Of a child of Plutarch and Shakespeare. | |
| O Lincoln, actor indeed, playing well your part, | 20 |
| And Booth, who strode in a mimic play within the play, | |
| Often and often I saw you, | |
| As the cawing crows winged their way to the wood | |
| Over my house-top at solemn sunsets, | |
| There by my window, | 25 |
| Alone. | |
