Spoon River Anthology | Page 4

beat the windows, shook the bolts.?I hid me in a corner?And then she died and haunted me,?And hunted me for life.
Robert Fulton Tanner
If a man could bite the giant hand?That catches and destroys him,?As I was bitten by a rat?While demonstrating my patent trap,?In my hardware store that day.?But a man can never avenge himself?On the monstrous ogre Life.?You enter the room that's being born;?And then you must live work out your soul,?Of the cross-current in life?Which Bring honor to the dead, who lived in shame.
Cassius Hueffer
THEY have chiseled on my stone the words:?"His life was gentle, and the elements so mixed in him?That nature might stand up and say to all the world,?This was a man."?Those who knew me smile?As they read this empty rhetoric.?My epitaph should have been:?"Life was not gentle to him,?And the elements so mixed in him?That he made warfare on life?In the which he was slain."?While I lived I could not cope with slanderous tongues,?Now that I am dead I must submit to an epitaph?Graven by a fool!
Serepta Mason
MY life's blossom might have bloomed on all sides?Save for a bitter wind which stunted my petals?On the side of me which you in the village could see.?From the dust I lift a voice of protest:?My flowering side you never saw!?Ye living ones, ye are fools indeed?Who do not know the ways of the wind?And the unseen forces?That govern the processes of life.
Amanda Barker
HENRY got me with child,?Knowing that I could not bring forth life?Without losing my own.?In my youth therefore I entered the portals of dust.?Traveler, it is believed in the village where I lived?That Henry loved me with a husband's love?But I proclaim from the dust?That he slew me to gratify his hatred.
Chase Henry
IN life I was the town drunkard;?When I died the priest denied me burial?In holy ground.?The which redounded to my good fortune.?For the Protestants bought this lot,?And buried my body here,?Close to the grave of the banker Nicholas,?And of his wife Priscilla.?Take note, ye prudent and pious souls,?Of the cross--currents in life?Which bring honor to the dead, who lived in shame
Judge Somers
How does it happen, tell me,?That I who was most erudite of lawyers,?Who knew Blackstone and Coke?Almost by heart, who made the greatest speech?The court-house ever heard, and wrote?A brief that won the praise of Justice Breese?How does it happen, tell me,?That I lie here unmarked, forgotten,?While Chase Henry, the town drunkard,?Has a marble block, topped by an urn?Wherein Nature, in a mood ironical,?Has sown a flowering weed?
Benjamin Pantier
TOGETHER in this grave lie Benjamin Pantier, attorney at law, And Nig, his dog, constant companion, solace and friend.?Down the gray road, friends, children, men and women,?Passing one by one out of life, left me till I was alone?With Nig for partner, bed-fellow; comrade in drink.?In the morning of life I knew aspiration and saw glory,?The she, who survives me, snared my soul?With a snare which bled me to death,?Till I, once strong of will, lay broken, indifferent,?Living with Nig in a room back of a dingy office.?Under my Jaw-bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig?Our story is lost in silence. Go by, Mad world!
Mrs. Benjamin Pantier
I know that he told that I snared his soul?With a snare which bled him to death.?And all the men loved him,?And most of the women pitied him.?But suppose you are really a lady, and have delicate tastes, And loathe the smell of whiskey and onions,?And the rhythm of Wordsworth's "Ode" runs in your ears,?While he goes about from morning till night?Repeating bits of that common thing;?"Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?"?And then, suppose;?You are a woman well endowed,?And the only man with whom the law and morality?Permit you to have the marital relation?Is the very man that fills you with disgust?Every time you think of it while you think of it?Every time you see him??That's why I drove him away from home?To live with his dog in a dingy room?Back of his office.
Reuben Pantier
WELL, Emily Sparks, your prayers were not wasted,?Your love was not all in vain.?I owe whatever I was in life?To your hope that would not give me up,?To your love that saw me still as good.?Dear Emily Sparks, let me tell you the story.?I pass the effect of my father and mother;?The milliner's daughter made me trouble?And out I went in the world,?Where I passed through every peril known?Of wine and women and joy of life.?One night, in a room in the Rue de Rivoli,?I was drinking wine with a black-eyed cocotte,?And the tears swam into my eyes.?She though they were amorous tears and smiled?For thought of her conquest over me.?But my soul was three thousand miles away,?In the days when you taught me in Spoon River.?And just because you no more could love me,?Nor pray for me, nor