Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MAN FROM SANGAMON, AT GETTYSBURG, by ELEANOR G. R. YOUNG



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE MAN FROM SANGAMON, AT GETTYSBURG, by                    
First Line: I am a man who knew abe lincoln well
Last Line: That was abe lincoln, friend of all the world.
Subject(s): Gettysburg Address (1863); Lincoln, Abraham (1809-1865); Presidents, United States


I am a man who knew Abe Lincoln well;
We logged together on the Sangamon.
Abe was a thinker then, we noticed that;
Noticed the way he used to go apart
And watch the sunset flush the western sky
Until the river seemed a thing of flame.
Abe would sit there, a little off from us,
The soft wind blowing his unruly locks,
His face alight with deep, unspoken dreams.
It was as if he visioned the long way
His great, gaunt frame would one day have to go;
As if he heard the distant roar of war.
I have seen tears start in Abe Lincoln's eyes
And run unheeded down his wind-bronzed cheeks
Even as long ago as those old days
When we were logging on the Sangamon.

After the day's hard work we would sit there,
Lost in the wild, still beauty of the place;
(I can recall the smell of early spring
That settled on the river after dark);
Would sit and watch the stars come slowly out
And hear the water lap against our boat
And lose ourselves in quietness and sleep.
But Lincoln would sit on, deep in his thoughts,
One day we saw a slave sold on the bank:
That night Abe Lincoln's heavy brows were knit
In troubled thought. That night
He did not close his brooding eyes,
But sat there thinking till the morning sun
Turned the pale sky into a flood of light.

Today, when I stood there at Gettysburg,
And saw that figure that I knew and loved
Take its quiet place—
How can I put in words
The thoughts that surged so swiftly through my heart?
This was the man I knew so well and long—
This man who spoke such simple, tender words—
Truths that would root and grow and bear much fruit!
Somehow, when he had finished, I ran forth
And caught his great hand close within my own:
"Abe!" I cried, huskily. "You know me, Abe?"
There, in the great crowd, he leaned on my arm.
Tears of delight were on his homely face.
"It is as if," he told me, brokenly,
"The years of war and horror were wiped out
And we were on the Sangamon again.
My heart has hungered after you, my friend."

That was Abe Lincoln, friend of all the world.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net