Thursday, February 12, 2009

A Lincoln Poem

The melancholia of Abraham Lincoln is well-documented.  Today this mental state is called depression.  Lincoln's life was peppered with death; in short order he lost his mother, sister and his first love. Ann Rutledge.  His thoughts, poetically:

I hear the loved survivors tell
How naught from death could save.
Till every sound appears a knell,
And every spot a grave.

He also didn't expect an afterlife, either.  "I'm afraid there isn't.  It isn't a pleasant thing to think that when we die that is the last of us."

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