Lincoln, The Man Of The

Defeat May Serve As Well As Victory To Shake The Soul And Let The Glory Out. When The Great Oak Is Straining In The Wind, The Boughs Drink In New Beauty And The Trunk Sends Down A Deeper Root On The Windward Side. Only The Soul That Knows The Mighty Grief Can Know The Mighty Rapture, Sorrows Come To Stretch Out Spaces In The Heart For Joy.

Yes, Take A Little Time To Play And Look At Life The Other Way. God Rested When The World Was Made: Rest Now, Old Friend; Be Not Afraid. But Think Not That Your Work Is Over, That You Are Now A Foot-free Rover, A Rambler Upon Idle Ways, Whittling Away The Golden Days. For In The Road Climb To The Goal There's No Long Furlough For A Soul. There's No Long Pause: On Every Height Another Summit Swims In Sight. The Long Road Rises, Scene By Scene, With Little Restings In Between.

The Sequoias Belong To The Silences Of The Milleniums. Many Of Them Have Seen A Hundred Human Generations Rise, Give Off Their Little Clamors And Perish. They Seem Indeed To Be Forms Of Immortality Standing Here Amoing The Transitory Shapes Of Time.

There Is No True Liberty For The Individual Except As He Finds It In The Liberty Of All. There Is No True Security For The Individual Except As He Finds It In The Security For All.

Bowed By The Weight Of Centuries He Leans Upon His Hoe And Gazes On The Ground, The Emptiness Of Ages In His Face, And On His Back The Burden Of The World.