You are over there, Father Malloy… Where holy ground is, and the cros… Not here with us on the hill— Us of wavering faith, and clouded… And drifting hope, and unforgiven…

I, born in Weimar Of a mother who was French And German father, a most learned… Orphaned at fourteen years, Became a dancer, known as Russian…

They got me into the Sunday-schoo… In Spoon River And tried to get me to drop Confu… I could have been no worse off If I had tried to get them to dro…

Back and forth, back and forth, to… With my Bible under my arm Till I was gray and old; Unwedded, alone in the world, Finding brothers and sisters in th…

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

Toward the last The truth of others was untruth to… The justice of others injustice to… Their reasons for death, reasons w… Their reasons for life, reasons wi…

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…

I went up and down the streets Here and there by day and night, Through all hours of the night car… Do you know why? My wife hated me, my son went to t…

You never understood, O unknown o… Why it was I repaid Your devoted friendship and delica… First with diminished thanks, Afterward by gradually withdrawing…

I wrote him a letter asking him fo… To discharge my sick boy from the… But maybe he couldn’t read it. Then I went to town and had James… Who wrote beautifully, write him a…

I staggered on through darkness, There was a hazy sky, a few stars Which I followed as best I could. It was nine o’clock, I was trying… But somehow I was lost,

Whoever thou art who passest by Know that my father was gentle, And my mother was violent, While I was born the whole of suc… Not intermixed and fused,

Oh! the dew-wet grass of the meado… Through which Rebecca followed me… One child in her arms, and three t… Lengthening out the farewell to me… And then the long, hard years down…

When my moustache curled, And my hair was black, And I wore tight trousers And a diamond stud, I was an excellent knave of hearts…

Suppose it is nothing but the hive… That there are drones and workers And queens, and nothing but storin… (Material things as well as cultur… For the next generation, this gene…