"The Suicide's Soliloquy," published in the Sangamo Journal (25 August 1838); there is no consensus among historians whether or not this poem was written by Lincoln.
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 knew
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 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!

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