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You never understood, O unknown one, / Why it was I repaid …
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O, my friend, / What fitting word can I say? …
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Better than granite, Spoon River, / Is the memory-picture you keep of me …
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Out of me unworthy and unknown / The vibrations of deathless music; …
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I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you, / I was ashamed of you. I despised you …
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Did you ever see an alligator / Come up to the air from the mud, …
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Did you ever hear of Editor Whedon / Giving to the public treasury any of the money he received …
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I went up and down the streets / Here and there by day and night, …
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To be able to see every side of every question; / To be on every side, to be everything, to be nothing long; …
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You are over there, Father Malloy, / Where holy ground is, and the cross marks every grave, …
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The earth keeps some vibration going / There in your heart, and that is you. …
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Do the boys and girls still go to Siever’s / For cider, after school, in late September? …
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I reached the highest place in Spoon River, / But through what bitterness of spirit! …
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I went to the dances at Chandlerville, / And played snap-out at Winchester. …
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Have you seen walking through the village / A man with downcast eyes and haggard face? …
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My thanks, friends of the County Scientific Association, / For this modest boulder, …
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They brought me ambrotypes / Of the old pioneers to enlarge. …
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When i died, the circulating library / Which I built up for Spoon River, …
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Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley, / The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter? …
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Very well, you liberals, / And navigators into realms intellectual, …
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Do you remember, O Delphic Apollo, / The sunset hour by the river, when Mickey M’Grew …
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There by the window in the old house / Perched on the bluff, overlooking miles of valley, …
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There is something about Death / Like love itself! …