Passer-by, sin beyond any sin Is the sin of blindness of souls t… And joy beyond any joy is the joy Of having the good in you seen, an… At the miraculous moment!

I was crushed between Altgeld and… I lost many friends, much time and… Fighting for Altgeld whom Editor… Denounced as the candidate of gamb… Then Armour started to ship dress…

Out of a cell into this darkened s… The end at twenty-five! My tongue could not speak what sti… And the village thought me a fool. Yet at the start there was a clear…

When Fort Sumter fell and the war… I cried out in bitterness of soul: “O glorious republic now no more!” When they buried my soldier son To the call of trumpets and the so…

At four o’clock in late October I sat alone in the country school-… Back from the road 'mid stricken f… And an eddy of wind blew leaves on… And crooned in the flue of the can…

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…

Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! How you stole in the room (where… In your nurse’s cap and linen cuff… And took my hand and said with a s… “You are not so ill—you’ll soon be…

If I could have lived another yea… I could have finished my flying ma… And become rich and famous. Hence it is fitting the workman Who tried to chisel a dove for me

The press of the Spoon River Cla… And I was tarred and feathered, For publishing this on the day the… “I saw a beautiful woman with band… Standing on the steps of a marble…

Tell me, was Altgeld elected Gove… For when the returns began to come… And Cleveland was sweeping the Ea… It was too much for you, poor old… Who had striven for democracy

Oh, you young radicals and dreamer… You dauntless fledglings Who pass by my headstone, Mock not its record of my captainc… And my faith in God!

They called me the weakling, the s… For my brothers were strong and be… While I, the last child of parent… Inherited only their residue of po… But they, my brothers, were eaten…

You observe the carven hand With the index finger pointing hea… That is the direction, no doubt. But how shall one follow it? It is well to abstain from murder…

When conquerors lift the bloody sh… Showing the fallen’s ooze of life, And on a waste of blasted field Joy quickens to the drum and fife, Then the weird brood of flame and…

Why did Albert Schirding kill him… Trying to be County Superintenden… Blest as he was with the means of… And wonderful children, bringing h… Ere he was sixty?