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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Abe Lincoln (search for this): chapter 45
ent, or you break the sinews of our plot. --Twelfth Night. Be patient with your rulers, men; They can't be in a hurry; No man is worth a feather's weight, When always in a flurry. And spare that nimble cracking whip, Your fiery mettle save; Abe Lincoln is your servant, sure, But he is not your slave. You charge that he was Southern born, And winks at Old Kentuck; That witches of the border States Have stolen all his pluck. I'll let you prove his woful birth, And magnify the sin; But only oit is ripening fast, Await the gathering hour. For every thing there is a time, We may not fix the date; But when we find the harvest sure, With gladness we should wait. In consternation soon the foe Will feel the settling stroke, And find old Lincoln's cool delay A thundering sort of joke! I am not e'en a prophet's son, But I predict a rout, That soon will make the nations pause, And hills and valleys shout. We then shall hear the eagle-scream Above the cannon's roar, And see the country's