James A. Garfield

From the lackson Citizen. There not a gentle heart n al! the land But aches through these slow footed days of grief Sa reverent soul that ever spoke to God But prays his blessinffs on our stricken chlef; Aiid in the shadows hov'ring o'er his fatc The loyal niUlions of the people wait. Our land had many sons, as Jesse had. When trom their inidst God'í prophet soulit a king Sons that were uil, and grand, and princely fair, But for them not awaited oil and ring. The hidden prince In quiet ways was found, Vnknnwn of men, but ulied of God and crowned. We wondered much, like those of olden days, When this same thing was done before our eyesj And to the highest honur cahnlv came The David wc had failed to recognize; Men choose, as if the place were highest goal ; God chooses rulers, among princely souls. We called him statesman, in the senate halls; And orator when setting hearts athrill ; We named hlm hcro, on the battle field ; And chleftain by the sovereign people's wlll; But now we ee through hours of slow distress, The pain has made him grander than sucecss. The man himself, so loving, pure and calm, Has been revealcd. These fiery days of pain. We ve found the heart which made his words so hot, Thecrystal soul that winged the splendid brain. ïe'i'iiïi! iir'.0,1í'iW',t,h tear' tnis highest meed- itt Samuel, xxi chap.