%images; ]> scsm-000067 Rest, martyr, rest : song and chorus / music by Geo. P. Graff ; words by Jas. E. Glass ...: a machine readable transcription. STERN COLLECTION OF LINCOLNIANA, Library of Congress Selected and converted. American Memory, Library of Congress.

Washington, DC, 2006.

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 Rare Book & Special Collections Division, Library of Congress. Public Domain

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 2008/04/18
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Rest, Martyr, Rest.

'Tis finish'd! on Columbia's head Doth gasping treason pour Its seventh vial of fiendish wrath! Her father is no more! The foulest deeds of treason's life Which fill'd the land with woe; How vain beside its dying stroke, Which lays our chieftain low.

Chorus: Rest, martyr, rest, From the scenes of death and pain, Though murd'rous hands have still'd thy heart, Thy noble deeds remain. Rest, martyr, rest, From the weary toil and pain, The nation mourns the loss of thee—Thy noble deeds remain.

Four years as chieftain did he toil To free our own fair land, And traitors all around him stood To grasp it from his hand; And in our nation's gladdest hour The assassin's hand was near; It struck our noble Lincoln down—Columbia's hearts hold dear.

The nation's heart o'erflow'd with joy To see the conflict cease, And grim war's bursting clouds revealed The angel form of peace. The Union safe, the slave set free, By his kind heart and hand; Oh! why must he, like Moses, die In view of Canaan's land.

We should not question Providence Who wisely rules o'er all, And in his tender love doth mark The tiny sparrow's fall; But tremble, traitors, least the wrath Your murd'rous act hath sown, Leave Justice free from Mercy's pray'rs, To deal with you alone.

Though tongues inspired would tell our woe, And tears in oceans roll, Vain would they prove to paint the grief That wrings the nation's soul. We bow in silence to the storm By which the love divine, Doth cleanse and cause Columbia's stars With tenfold light to shine.