by Edgar Lee Masters

    I went to the dances at Chandlerville，

    And played snap-out at Winchester.

    One time we changed partners，

    Driving home in the moonlight of middle June，

    And then I found Davis.

    We were married and lived together for seventy years，

    Enjoying， working， raising the twelve children，

    Eight of whom we lost

    Ere I had reached the age of sixty.

    I spun， I wove， I kept the house， I nursed the sick，

    I made the garden， and for holiday

    Rambled over the fields where sang the larks，

    And by Spoon River gathering many a shell，

    And many a flower and medicinal weed

    Shouting to the wooded hills， singing to the green valleys.

    At ninety-six I had lived enough， that is all，

    And passed to a sweet repose.

    What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness，

    Anger， discontent and drooping hopes？

    Degenerate sons and daughters，

    Life is too strong for you

    It takes life to love Life