My childhood’s home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my bra… There’s pleasure in it too. O Memory! thou midway world

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

MY childhood’s home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my bra… There’s pleasure in it, too. O memory! thou midway world

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

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

You are young, and I am older; You are hopeful, I am not— Enjoy life, ere it grow colder— Pluck the roses ere they rot. Teach your beau to heed the lay—

A wild-bear chace, didst never see… Then hast thou lived in vain. Thy richest bump of glorious glee, Lies desert in thy brain. When first my father settled here,