Dust of my dust, And dust with my dust, O, child who died as you entered t… Dead with my death! Not knowing breath, though you tri…

I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I wa… I went to the city for themes and… There married the banker’s daughte…

The idea danced before us as a fla… The sound of martial music; The thrill of carrying a gun; Advancement in the world on coming… A glint of glory, wrath for foes;

I was sixteen, and I had the most… And specks before my eyes, and ner… And I couldn’t remember the books… Like Frank Drummer who memorized… And my back was weak, and I worri…

Jonas Keene thought his lot a har… Because his children were all fail… But I know of a fate more trying… It is to be a failure while your c… For I raised a brood of eagles

I was just turned twenty-one, And Henry Phipps, the Sunday-sch… Made a speech in Bindle’s Opera… “The honor of the flag must be uph… “Whether it be assailed by a barba…

From Bindle’s opera house in the… To Broadway is a great step. But I tried to take it, my ambiti… When sixteen years of age, Seeing “East Lynne” played here i…

The pine woods on the hill, And the farmhouse miles away, Showed clear as though behind a le… Under a sky of peacock blue! But a blanket of cloud by afternoo…

She took my strength by minutes, She took my life by hours, She drained me like a fevered moon That saps the spinning world. The days went by like shadows,

Is it true, Spoon River, That in the hall-way of the New C… There is a tablet of bronze Containing the embossed faces Of Editor Whedon and Thomas Rhod…

Not in that wasted garden Where bodies are drawn into grass That feeds no flocks, and into eve… That bear no fruit— There where along the shaded walks

I inherited forty acres from my F… And, by working my wife, my two so… From dawn to dusk, I acquired A thousand acres. But not content… Wishing to own two thousand acres,

I was the Widow McFarlane, Weaver of carpets for all the vill… And I pity you still at the loom… You who are singing to the shuttle And lovingly watching the work of…

We quarreled that morning, For he was sixty-five, and I was… And I was nervous and heavy with… Whose birth I dreaded. I thought over the last letter wri…

In my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted hickory cane,