Abraham Lincoln: The Poet

I didn't know Abraham Lincoln was a poet, but I started watching the movie "Young Abraham Lincoln" and there was a bit about a first love, with Ann Rutledge.  There are different versions of the story, but there is a poem attributed to him, supposedly when he was depressed after she succumbed to typhoid:

The Suicide's Soliloquy

Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’d on earth!
Sweet steel! come forth from our your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My last—my only friend!

Abraham Lincoln

It is known that Lincoln suffered from bouts of depression.  He also had a sense of humor, and sometimes made fun of himself and his name.

Abraham Lincoln

Abraham Lincoln,
His hand and pen:
He will be good but
God knows When.

Abraham Lincoln

 

Abraham Lincoln Is My Name

Abraham Lincoln is my nam[e]
And with my pen I wrote the same
I wrote in both hast and speed
and left it here for fools to read

Abraham Lincoln

 

Lincoln also wrote poetry while he was in the White House

Verse On Lee’s Invasion Of The North

Gen. Lees invasion of the North written by himself—

In eighteen sixty three, with pomp,
and mighty swell,
Me and Jeff’s Confederacy, went
forth to sack Phil-del,
The Yankees the got arter us, and
giv us particular hell,
And we skedaddled back again,
And didn’t sack Phil-del.

Abraham Lincoln

 

You can find additional Lincoln poems here: 

http://www.poemhunter.com/abraham-lincoln/