Wednesday, June 13, 2012


                                                 When I died, the circulating library
                                                  Which I built up for Spoon River,
                                        And managed for the good of inquiring minds,
                                             Was sold at auction on the public square,
                                                   as if to destroy the last vestige
                                                   Of my memory and influence.
                                        For those of you who could not see the virtue 
                            of knowing Volney's "Ruins" as well as Butler's "Analogy"
                                             And "Faust" as well as "Evangeline,"
                                             Were really the  power in the village,
                                                    And often you asked me,
                                     "What is the use of knowing the evil in the world?"
                                           I am out of your way now, Spoon River,
                                           Choose your own good and call it good 
                                              For I could never make you see
                                                Who knows not what is evil;
                                              And no one knows what is true
                                                Who knows not what is false.

No comments:

Post a Comment