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