Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears.
It is a wonderful gift to be able to stir men like that.
Abraham Lincoln.
As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
There is a puzzling attribute of Abraham Lincoln, and that was he seemed to remember everything he read about anyone and that as he said, "I can hear but a verse but once and can not help but remember it".
Lincoln once astonished a newly appointed Ambassador, as he reeled off a 100 stanza poem, and then informed the diplomat that his father had recited part of that poem in Congress and Lincoln remembered it.
Lincoln would cry at poetry. He admired people who could write something which could move humans to tears. Lincoln would read aloud poetry for over an hour to a friend who happened to be there discussing poetry while people outside buzzed about the door like bees trying to get in.
He could and would read Shakespeare aloud, and make commentary which was correct. This Lincoln which critics misjudged as backwoods and homespun due to his laughing at down home humor, was the most cultured President America produced. He carried Shakespeare in his pocket like Theodore Roosevelt did and read it.
It was said the painter could never capture Lincoln as his moods shifted quickly from melancholy, staring off into the distance, to a twinkle of the eye, slight curve of the lip in humor, to a broad smile with white teeth. The tragedy of Abraham Lincoln is that the public has been exposed to a stoic and somber man, when his range was a man fit for all peoples from scholars, to women in the hinterlands who knitted him socks. Thee only people who really never understood Lincoln were the people who deemed themselves intellectuals and refined, people who Lincoln managed with most of them unaware.
Those comments constitute a fair specimen of what has occurred to me through life. I have endured a great deal of ridicule without much malice, and have received a great deal of kindness, not free from ridicule. I am used to it.
Abraham Lincoln
One of the most profound things in Lincoln's mind was a poem by Browning which was a mix of Jesus telling people what they sowed they would reap and A Christmas Carol in the chains selfish people forge in this life and carry into the next.
This profoundly affected Abraham Lincoln as he navigated through the perils of morals in a President at War.
A weaver sat at his loom
Weaving his shuttle fast
And a threat that shall wear to the hour of doom
Was added at every cast
"The idea that men weave their own lives in garment which they must wear in the world to come", The opening lines were fixed in my mind by the frequent repetition by the President who seemed to be strongly impressed by them. During the evening he murmured them to himself once or twice as if in soliloquy."
John George Nicolay
President Lincoln's Secretary
For myself personally, I'm interested in Donald John Trump, in the man who will appear before America after the events of Butler PA, and placed him on a mission in his mind. Lincoln survived attempts on his life, but not the one which we remember. He was a boy in the West when he wanted to grow up to be President and achieved just that by design. His focus was saving an America he wanted to govern and destroying whatever was required to save that America he dreamed of, including America herself in the South.
For Donald John, we know of his failings in his first term. He gained no more footing than Lincoln did in his first two years, but Mr. Trump was mired in for 4 years to being lackluster. What having his ear clipped in Butler will do is the theater we will be witness to in the life or death of America which we knew. This is the Trump Mission.
That is the weave Mr. Trump is setting his loom up to the thread of a garment which will be worn to the afterlife, once his 47th term is completed.
There was zero poetry written in the prose of the heart for four years from Donald Trump as President. We will either have blank stanzas again or a volume written from what is in his heart in these next years.
The times of Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Trump compare, but we will read what the comparrison of their hearts will rend in the ink of time as the garment wove becomes what comes after the inks have dried.
Nuff Said
agtG
