#AmericanWriters
I was the milliner Talked about, lied about, Mother of Dora, Whose strange disappearance Was charged to her rearing.
(America Conquers Europe.) Foul shapes that hate the day, aga… Late driven hence, infested fane a… The laurels of our victory were am… Vile King-craft with his breed of…
I could not run or play In boyhood. In manhood I could only sip the c… Not drink— For scarlet-fever left my heart di…
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…
It is true, fellow citizens, That my old docket lying there for… On a shelf above my head and over The seat of justice, I say it is… That docket had an iron rim
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!
Oh many times did Ernest Hyde and… Argue about the freedom of the wil… My favorite metaphor was Prickett… Roped out to grass, and free you k… As the length of the rope.
All your sorrow, Louise, and hatr… Sprang from your delusion that it… Of spirit and contempt of your sou… Which made me turn to Annabelle a… You really grew to hate me for lov…
The sudden death of Eugene Carman Put me in line to be promoted to f… And I told my wife and children t… But it didn’t come, and so I thou… Old Rhodes suspected me of steali…
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…
Ye who are kicking against Fate, Tell me how it is that on this hil… Running down to the river, Which fronts the sun and the south… This plant draws from the air and…
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but unfortunately did not live to complete even the first book. The f...
Spring and Summer, Fall and Wint… After each other drifting, past my… And I lay so many years watching… The years till a terror came in my… With the feeling that I had becom…
How did you feel, you libertarians… Who spent your talents rallying no… Around the saloon, as if Liberty Was not to be found anywhere excep… Or at a table, guzzling?
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