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Show TOURIST'S EYE-VIEW OF AMERICA - page 3 Behind serenity of architectural lines, apostrophe of April, when a gentle man, tall with auburn hair missing a wife who died too soon. . . the river rolls with strains of his violin. Loneliness flutters through the boughs. Jet streams trail; cherry petals fall . . . two of them together - a writ upon the sky. Quiet now, the breeze. III. THOUGHTS AT THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL Mr. Lincoln, you are tall. In this cast of magnitude I am held in heights beyond my comprehending. Way up there, deepening lines curve around your lips betraying chuckles from the past, as if to say, this man could laugh and cry Transparent tears seem to slide along those structured bones reflecting struggles of a way to make this nation one. All humanity seems to surge in bend of head as if sculpture could hone the man you were, |