Under my Jaw…bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig
Our story is lost in silence。 Go by； Mad world！
Mrs。 Benjamin Pantier
I know that he told that I snared his soul
With a snare which bled him to death。
And all the men loved him；
And most of the women pitied him。
But suppose you are really a lady； and have delicate tastes；
And loathe the smell of whiskey and onions；
And the rhythm of Wordsworth's 〃Ode〃 runs in your ears；
While he goes about from morning till night
Repeating bits of that common thing；
〃Oh； why should the spirit of mortal be proud？〃
And then； suppose；
You are a woman well endowed；
And the only man with whom the law and morality
Permit you to have the marital relation
Is the very man that fills you with disgust
Every time you think of it while you think of it
Every time you see him？
That's why I drove him away from home
To live with his dog in a dingy room
Back of his office。
Reuben Pantier
WELL； Emily Sparks； your prayers were not wasted；
Your love was not all in vain。
I owe whatever I was in life
To your hope that would not give me up；
To your love that saw me still as good。
Dear Emily Sparks； let me tell you the story。
I pass the effect of my father and mother；
The milliner's daughter made me trouble
And out I went in the world；
Where I passed through every peril known
Of wine and women and joy of life。
One night； in a room in the Rue de Rivoli；
I was drinking wine with a black…eyed cocotte；
And the tears swam into my eyes。
She though they were amorous tears and smiled
For thought of her conquest over me。
But my soul was three thousand miles away；
In the days when you taught me in Spoon River。
And just because you no more could love me；
Nor pray for me； nor write me letters；
The eternal silence of you spoke instead。
And the Black…eyed cocotte took the tears for hers；
As well as the deceiving kisses I gave her。
Somehow； from that hour； I had a new vision
Dear Emily Sparks！
Emily Sparks
Where is my boy； my boy
In what far part of the world？
The boy I loved best of all in the school？
I； the teacher； the old maid； the virgin heart；
Who made them all my children。
Did I know my boy aright；
Thinking of him as a spirit aflame；
Active； ever aspiring？
Oh； boy； boy； for whom I prayed and prayed
In many a watchful hour at night；
Do you remember the letter I wrote you
Of the beautiful love of Christ？
And whether you ever took it or not；
My； boy； whereever you are；
Work for your soul'd sake；
That all the clay of you； all of the dross of you；
May yield to the fire of you；
Till the fire is nothing but light！。。。
Nothing but light！
Trainor； the Druggist
Only the chemist can tell； and not always the chemist；
What will result from compounding
Fluids or solids。
And who can tell
How men and women will interact
On each other； or what children will result？
There were Benjamin Pantier and his wife；
Good in themselved； but evil toward each other；
He oxygen； she hydrogen；
Their son； a devastating fire。
I Trainor； the druggist； a miser of chemicals；
Killed while making an experiment；
Lived unwedded。
Daisy Fraser
Did you ever hear of Editor Whedon
Giving to the public treasury any of the money he received
Fopr supporting candidated for office？
Or for writing up the canning factory
To get people to invest？
Or for suppressing the facts about the bank；
When it was rotten and ready to break？
Did you ever hear of the Circuit Judge
Helping anyone except the 〃Q〃 railroad；
Or the bankers？ Or did Rev。 Peet or Rev。 Sibley
Give any part of their salary； earned by keeping still；
Or speaking out as the leaders wished them to do；
To the building of the water works？
But I Daisy Fraser who always passed
Along the street through rows of nods and smiles；
And caughs and words such as 〃there she goes。〃
Never was taken before Justice Arnett
Without contributing ten dollars and costs
To the school fund of Spoon River！
Benjamin Fraser
THEIR spirits beat upon mine
Like the wings of a thousand butterflies。
I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating。
I closed my eyes； yet I knew when their lashes
Fringed their cheeks from downcast eyes；
And when they turned their heads；
And when their garments clung to them；
Or fell from them； in exquisite draperies。
Their spirits watched my ecstasy
With wide looks of starry unconcern。
Their spirits looked upon my torture；
They drank it as it were the water of life；
With reddened cheeks； brightened eyes；
The rising flame of my soul made their spirits gilt；
Like the wings of a butterfly drifting suddenly into sunlight。
And they cried to me for life； life； life。
But in taking life for myself；
In seizing and crushing their souls；
As a child crushes grapes and drinks
From its palms the purple juice；
I came to this wingless void；
Where neither red； nor gold； nor wine；
Nor the rhythm of life are known。
Minerva Jones
I AM Minerva； the village poetess；
Hooted at； jeered at by the Yahoos of the street
For my heavy body； cock…eye； and rolling walk；
And all the more when 〃Butch〃 Weldy
Captured me after a brutal hunt。
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。
Will some one go to the village newspaper；
And gather into a book the verses I wrote？
I thirsted so for love
I hungered so for life！
〃Indignation〃 Jones
You would not believe； would you
That I came from good Welsh stock？
That I was purer blooded than the white trash here？
And of more direct lineage than the
New Englanders And Virginians of Spoon River？
You would not believe that I had been to school
And read some books。
You saw me only as a run…down man
With matted hair and beard
And ragged clothes。
Sometimes a man's life turns into a cancer
From being bruised and continually bruised；
And swells into a purplish mass
Like growths on stalks of corn。
Here was I； a carpenter； mired in a bog of life
Into which I walked； thinking it was a meadow；
With a slattern for a wife； and poor Minerva； my daughter；
Whom you tormented and drove to death。
So I crept； crept； like a snail through the days
Of my life。
No more you hear my footsteps in the morning；
Resounding on the hollow sidewalk
Going to the grocery store for a little corn meal
And a nickel's worth of bacon。
〃Butch〃 Weldy
AFTER I got religion and steadied down
They gave me a job in the canning works；
And every morning I had to fill
The tank in the yard with gasoline；
That fed the blow…fires in the sheds
To heat the soldering irons。
And I mounted a rickety ladder to do it；
Carrying buckets full of the stuff。
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 someone left a blowfire going；
And something sucked the flame in the tank。
The Circuit Judge said whoever did it
Was a fellow…servant of mine； and so
Old Rhodes' son didn't have to pay me。
And I sat on the witness stand as blind
As lack the Fiddler； saying over and over；
〃l didn't know him at all。〃
Doctor Meyers
No other man； unless it was Doc Hill；
Did more for people in this town than l。
And all the weak； the halt； the improvident
And those who could not pay flocked to me。
I was good…hearted； easy Doctor Meyers。
I was healthy； happy； in comfortable fortune；
Blest with a congenial mate； my children raised；
All wedded； doing well in the world。
And then one night； Minerva； the poetess；
Came to me in her trouble； crying。
I tried to help her outshe died
They indicted me； the newspapers disgraced me；
My wife perished of a broken heart。
And pneumonia finished me。
Mrs。 Meyers
HE protested all his life long
The newspapers lied about him villainously；
That he was not at fault for Minerva's fall；
But only tried to help her。
Poor soul so sunk in sin he could not see
That even trying to help her； as he called it；
He had broken the law human and divine。
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。
Knowlt Hoheimer
I WAS the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge。
When I felt the bullet enter my heart
I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail
For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary；
Instead of running away and joining the army。
Rather a thousand times the county jail
Than to lie under this marble figure with wings；
And this granite pedestal Bearing the words； 〃Pro Patria。〃
What do they mean； anyway？
Lydia Puckett
KNOWLT HOHEIMER ran away to the war
The day before Curl Trenary
Swore out a warrant through Justice Arnett
For stealing hogs。
But that's not the reason he turned a soldier。
He caught me running with Lucius Atherton。
We quarreled and I told him never again
To cross my path。
Then he stole the hogs and went to the war
Back of every soldier is a woman。
Frank Drummer
OUT of a cell into this darkened space
The end at twenty…five！
My tongue could not speak what stirred within me；
And the village thought me a fool。
Yet at the start there was a clear vision；
A high and urgent purpose in my soul
Which drove me on trying to memorize
The Encyclopedia Britannica！
Hare Drummer
Do the boys and girls still go to Siever's
For cider； after school； in late September？
Or gather hazel nuts among the thickets
On Aaron Hatfield's farm when the frosts begin？
For many times with the laughing girls and boys
Played I along the road and over the hills
When the sun was low and the air was cool；
Stopping to club the walnut tree
Standing leafless against a flaming west。
Now； the smell of the autumn smoke；
And the dropping acorns；
And the echoes about the vales
Bring dreams of life。
They hover over me。
They question me：
Where are those laughing comrades？
How many are with me； how many
In the old orchards along the way to Siever's；
And in the woods that overlook
The quiet water？
Doc Hill
I WENT UP and down the streets
Here and there by day and night；
Through all hours of the night caring for the poor who were sick。
Do you know why？