A sacred day is this,
A day to bless;
A day that leads to bliss
Through bitterness.
For on this day of days,
One wondrous morn,
In far off forest ways
Was Lincoln born.

Who supped the cup of tears,
Who ate the bread
Of sorrow and of fears,
Of war and dread;
Yet from this feast of woes,
His people's pride,
A loved immortal rose
All glorified!

A sacred day is this,
— A day to bless;
A day that leads to bliss
— Through bitterness.
For on this day of days,
— One wondrous morn,
In far off forest ways
— Was Lincoln born.

Who supped the cup of tears,
— Who ate the bread
Of sorrow and of fears,
— Of war and dread;
Yet from this feast of woes,
— His people's pride,
A loved immortal rose
— All glorified!