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Lincoln Monument 
 Dedication Poem 
 
 By JAMES JUDSON LORD 
 
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 Delivered at Oak Ridge Cemetery 
 
 Springfield, Illinois 
 
 October 15 
 
 1874 
 
 Illustrated by W. Jerome Willoughby 
 
Copyright by 
 JAMES JUDSON LORD 
 
 
 Illinois PrintinR Co 
 
 Danville. 111. 
 
 1907 
 
We build not here a temple or a shrine, 
 Nor hero-fane to demigods divine; 
 Nor to the clouds a superstructure rear 
 For man's ambition or for servile fear. 
 Not to the Dust, but to the Deeds alone 
 A grateful people raise th' historic stone; 
 For ivhere a patriot lived, or hero fell. 
 The daisied turf would mark the spot as well. 
 
What lliongh the Pyramids, icitli apex hi'^Ii, 
 Like Alpine peaks cleave Egypt's rainless sky. 
 And cast grim shadoivs o'er a desert land 
 Forever blighted by oppression's hand? 
 No patriot zeal their deep foundations laid — 
 A^o freeman's hand their darken'd chambers made- 
 No public weal inspired the heart with love. 
 To see their summits toic'riiig high cdwve. 
 
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 The niHiii; Pharaoh, proud and gory-stained, 
 
 With vain ambitions never yet attained; — 
 
 With brow enclouded as his marble throne, 
 
 And heart unyielding as the building stone; — 
 
 Sought unth the scourge to make mankind his slaves, 
 
 And heaven's free sunlight darker than their graves. 
 
 His but to will, and theirs to yield and feel, 
 
 Like vermin d dust beneath his iron heel; — 
 
 Denies all mercy, and all right offends. 
 
 Till on his head th' avenging Plague descends. 
 
Historic justice bids the nations know 
 
 That through each land of slaves a Nile of blood shall flow. 
 
 And Vendome Columns, on a people thrust, 
 
 Are, by the people, level' d -with the dust. 
 
 
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 Nor stone, nor bronze, can fit memorials yield 
 For deeds of valor on the bloody field, 
 'Neath ivar's dark clouds the sturdy volunteer, 
 'By freedom taught his country to revere, 
 Bids home and friends a hasty, sad adieu. 
 And treads where dangers all his steps pursue; 
 Finds cold and famine on his dauntless way. 
 And li'ith mute patience brooks the long delay. 
 Or hears the trumpet, or the thrilling drum 
 Peal the long roll that calls: "They come! they come!" 
 Then to the front ivith battling hosts he files, 
 And lives to triumph, or for freedom dies. 
 
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Thttud'riiig aiuaiu along the rocky strand. 
 The Ocean claims her honors ivith the Land. 
 ■Loud on the gale she chimes the wild refrain. 
 Or ivith low murmur wails her heroes slain! 
 In gory hulks, ivith splintered mast and spar. 
 Rocks on her stormy breast the valiant Tar: — 
 Lash'd to the mast he gives the high command. 
 Or midst the fight, sinks -n'ilh the Cumberland. 
 
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Beloved banner of the azure sky. 
 Thy rightful home where'er thy eagles fly; 
 On thy blue fields the stars of heav'n descend. 
 And to our day a purer luster lend. 
 
(', Righteous God! Who guard' st the right alivay. 
 And bade Thy peace to come, "and come to stay:" 
 And while war's deluge filPd the land ivith blood, 
 With bow of promise arch'd the crimson flood, — 
 From fratricidal strife our banner screen, 
 And let it float henceforth in skies serene. 
 
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 Yel cunnmg art sliall here her triumphs bring, 
 And laureVd bards their choicest anthems sing. 
 Here, honor'd age shall bare its wintry broiv. 
 And youth to freedom make a Spartan voiu. 
 Here, ripen'd manhood from its walks profound, 
 Shall come and halt, as if on hallow'd ground. 
 Here shall the urn with fragrant wreaths be drest. 
 By tender hands the floiv'ry tributes prest; 
 And wending westward, from oppressions far, 
 Shall pilgrims come led by our freedom -.star; 
 Wliile bending lowly, o'er friendly pall. 
 The silent tear from ebon cheeks shall fall. 
 
Sterile and Tain the tributes ivhieh -av pay — 
 
 // is the Past that consecrates to-day 
 
 The spot where rests one of the noble jeiv 
 
 Who saw the right, and dared the right t<> do. 
 
 True to himself and to his fellow men. 
 
 With patient hand he moved the potent pen. 
 
 Whose inky stream did, like the Red sea's floiv. 
 
 Such bondage break and such a host overthrow! 
 
 The simple parchment on its fleeting page 
 
 Bespeaks the import of the better age, — 
 
 When man, for man, no more shall forge the chain, 
 
 Xor armies tread the shore, nor navies plow the main. 
 
 
 
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 Then shall this hooii to hitman freedom f^ivcn 
 Be fitly deem'd a sacred gift of heaven ; — 
 Though of the earth, it is no less divine, — 
 Founded on truth it will forever shine. 
 Reflecting rays from the heaven's unchanging plaii- 
 The law of right and brotherhood of man. 
 fames Judson Lord. 
 
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