Excerpt from Lincoln and Ann Rutledge: An Idyllic Epos of the Early North-West, Souvenir of Abraham Lincoln"s Birth-Day, 1912
Hark! how it breathes its last breath in melodious carols concentric,
Weaving with wavelets of sound the tremulous heart of the hearer,
Who in harmonious throbs for a moment floats over the border
Till he is rapt to the rhythm of spheres in chorus majestic,
Feeling afar the cosmical echo of ancient creation,
When the sun and the moon and the stars were singing together.
Now the tongue of the bell has lisped its mellifluous message,
And has enwreathed in its tenderest rounds the listening farm-house
To the first milestone from town at the prayerful calm of the noon-tide;
Even the ox of the field knows it well, and looks up from his grazing,
While the dog in response will utter a howl from the barnyard,
And the big chanticleer will perch on the top of his dunghill,
Strutting amid his polygamous household and crowing defiance.
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