On this, Abraham Lincoln's (1809-1865) birthday, the first part of one of his poems. It is said he was a melancholy man, and his poems certainly bear witness to that fact. from Poem-A-Day.com:
My Childhood Home I See Again
My childhood home I see again,
And sadden with the view;
And still, as memory crowds my brain,
There's pleasure in it too.
O Memory! thou midway world
'Twixt earth and paradise,
Where things decayed and loved ones lost
In dreamy shadows rise,
And, freed from all that's earthly vile,
Seem hallowed, pure, and bright,
Like scenes in some enchanted isle
All bathed in liquid light.
As dusky mountains please the eye
When twilight chases day;
As bugle-notes that, passing by,
In distance die away;