So, I guess from her viewpoint, if your aren't gonna give the menfolk what they want, don't be pissed when I do. Therefore to do God's work and have it crop, I bore with her So lied I to myself So lied I to Spoon River! But if the high air was sweet to them, sweet was the church to me. I pretended to believe it, though I knew very well What he was doing, and that he met The milliner, Mrs. Then my spirit drooped as the night came on, And you left me alone in my room for a while, As you did when I was a bride, poor heart. I learned from him the parasite cunning With which I moved with the bluffs, like a flea on a dog. And why did my soul respond to the book, As I read it over and over? That day I was sawing wood for her, And reading Proudhon in between. They are not denials of each other.
Note: Realism can be kind of gross. I know that he told that I snared his soul With a snare which bled him to death. I've called for you, Go out on Broadway and be run over, They'll ship you back to Spoon River. Now, the smell of the autumn smoke, And the dropping acorns, And the echoes about the vales Bring dreams of life. For years I was his mistress--no one knew.
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. But Solomon won the nomination; And then I faced about, And rallied my followers to his standard, And made him victor, made him King Of the Golden Mountain with the door Which closed on my heels just as I entered, Flattered by Solomon's invitation, To be the County--board's secretary. I think it's likely that Mr. I could have been no worse off If I had tried to get them to drop Jesus for Confucius. How did you feel, you libertarians, Who spent your talents rallying noble reasons Around the saloon, as if Liberty Was not to be found anywhere except at the bar Or at a table, guzzling? I'll crack your boar's head with a piece of brick! One morning, as I stood there pouring, The air grew still and seemed to heave, And I shot up as the tank exploded, And down I came with both legs broken, And my eyes burned crisp as a couple of eggs. For what is it all but being hatched, And running about the yard, To the day of the block? For all my wisdom and grace of mind Gave her no delight at all, in very truth, But ever and anon she spoke of the giant strength Of Willard Shafer, and of his wonderful feat Of lifting a traction engine out of the ditch One time at Georgie Kirby's.
But a promise is a promise And marriage is marriage, And out of respect for my own character I refused to be drawn into a divorce By the scheme of a husband who had merely grown tired Of his marital vow and duty. But tell me, Muse, What god or goddess rescued Bengal Mike? Anyway, this is my part: He ran away and was gone for a year. I was good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers. And seized our books and arrested us. He poisoned me, I think.
I loathed her as a termagant, as a wanton. My soul had entered in the clay, Fighting like seven devils. But few die, none resign. I told her that while taking a row in a boat I had been captured near Van Buren Street By pirates on Lake Michigan, And kept in chains, so I could not write her. My architectonics One for a barrel, one for a hammer And others for other parts of a gun! Or a meadow to walk through to the river? Oh how she loved me! But then after we were married I thought She might prove her mortality and let me out, or she might divorce me.
In manhood I could only sip the cup, Not drink--For scarlet-fever left my heart diseased. I lost my case and lost my place. You had cured my diseased soul. And I went to war in spite of my father, And followed the flag till I saw it raised By our camp in a rice field near Manila, And all of us cheered and cheered it. Under my Jaw-bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig Our story is lost in silence. Williams, now and then When she went to the city to buy goods, as she said. Will some one go to the village newspaper, And gather into a book the verses I wrote? And no mother would let her baby suck Diseased milk from her breast.
Passers by, an ancient admonition to you: If your ways would be ways of pleasantness, And all your pathways peace, Love God and keep his commandments. He left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers; And I sank into death, growing numb from the feet up, Like one stepping deeper and deeper into a stream of ice. To put meaning in one's life may end in madness, But life without meaning is the torture Of restlessness and vague desire-- It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid. I told her that while taking a row in a boat I had been captured near Van Buren Street By pirates on Lake Michigan, And kept in chains, so I could not write her. And like a watch that is worn I felt you growing slower until you stopped.
But a promise is a promise And marriage is marriage, And out of respect for my own character I refused to be drawn into a divorce By the scheme of a husband who had merely grown tired Of his marital vow and duty. I dreamed of the wrongs of the world and wanted to right them. The same word and is repeated. Only after many trials for strength, Only when all stimulants fail, Does the aspiring soul By its own sheer power Find the divine By resting upon itself. Woodlands, meadows, streams and rivers-- Blind to all of it all my life long.