First linesEdgar Lee Masters

A chaplain in the army, Ezra Bartlett
A step-mother drove me from home, embittering me. Georgine Sand Miner
After a long day of work in my hot-houses Gustav Richter
After I got religion and steadied down “Butch” Weldy
After I had attended lectures Ida Chicken
After you have enriched your soul Jonathan Swift Somers
All they said was true: Ralph Rhodes
All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me Herbert Marshall
Almost the shell of a woman after the surgeon’s knife! Pauline Barrett
As a boy, Theodore, you sat for long hours Theodore the Poet
As to democracy, fellow citizens, John Hancock Otis
At first I suspected something⁠— Tom Merritt
At first you will know not what they mean, Faith Matheny
At four o’clock in late October Zilpha Marsh
Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church, Lydia Humphrey
Better than granite, Spoon River, Aaron Hatfield
Both for the country and for the man, Anthony Findlay
Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! Paul McNeely
Did I follow Truth wherever she led, Herman Altman
Did my widow flit about Batterton Dobyns
Did you ever find out Charlie French
Did you ever hear of Editor Whedon Daisy Fraser
Did you ever see an alligator Arlo Will
Do the boys and girls still go to Siever’s Hare Drummer
Do you remember when I stood on the steps George Trimble
Do you remember, O Delphic Apollo, Webster Ford
Do you remember, passer-by, the path James Garber
Do you think that odes and sermons, Sexsmith the Dentist
Doc Meyers said I had satyriasis, Isa Nutter
Dust of my dust, Elizabeth Childers
Everyone laughed at Col. Prichard Professor Newcomer
Father, thou canst never know Johnnie Sayre
From Bindle’s opera house in the village Flossie Cabanis
God! ask me not to record your wonders, Scholfield Hurley
Harry Wilmans! You who fell in a swamp Godwin James
Have any of you, passers-by, Eugenia Todd
Have you seen walking through the village Ollie McGee
He protested all his life long Mrs. Meyers
He ran away and was gone for a year. Mrs. Purkapile
Henry got me with child, Amanda Barker
Herbert broke our engagement of eight years Louise Smith
Here I lie close to the grave Hod Putt
Here lies the body of Lois Spears, Lois Spears
Here! You sons of the men English Thornton
Horses and men are just alike. Peleg Poague
How did you feel, you libertarians, Jacob Godbey
How does it happen, tell me, Judge Somers
How many times, during the twenty years Enoch Dunlap
I am Minerva, the village poetess, Minerva Jones
I began with Sir William Hamilton’s lectures. Imanuel Ehrenhardt
I belonged to the church, Deacon Taylor
I bought every kind of machine that’s known⁠— Abel Melveny
I could not run or play Francis Turner
I grew spiritually fat living off the souls of men. Robert Davidson
I had fiddled all day at the county fair. Blind Jack
I had no objection at all Rev. Abner Peet
I have studied many times George Gray
I have two monuments besides this granite obelisk: Lambert Hutchins
I inherited forty acres from my Father Cooney Potter
I know that he told that I snared his soul Mrs. Benjamin Pantier
I leaned against the mantel, sick, sick, Harold Arnett
I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you, Archibald Higbie
I looked like Abraham Lincoln. Elliott Hawkins
I lost my patronage in Spoon River Penniwit, the Artist
I made two fights for the people. Hildrup Tubbs
I never saw any difference “Ace” Shaw
I preached four thousand sermons, Rev. Lemuel Wiley
I ran away from home with the circus, Sam Hookey
I reached the highest place in Spoon River, Henry C. Calhoun
I said when they handed me my diploma, Dr. Siegfried Iseman
I sat on the bank above Bernadotte Schroeder the Fisherman
I spent my money trying to elect you Mayor Robert Southey Burke
I staggered on through darkness, Oscar Hummel
I tried to win the nomination Hiram Scates
I wanted to be County Judge Granville Calhoun
I wanted to go away to college Searcy Foote
I was a gun-smith in Odessa. Ippolit Konovaloff
I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney Tom Beatty
I was a peasant girl from Germany, Elsa Wertman
I was among multitudes of children Elijah Browning
I was attorney for the “Q” John M. Church
I was crushed between Altgeld and Armour. Adam Weirauch
I was just turned twenty-one, Harry Wilmans
I was not beloved of the villagers, Dorcas Gustine
I was only eight years old; Nellie Clark
I was sick, but more than that, I was mad Rosie Roberts
I was sixteen, and I had the most terrible dreams, Zenas Witt
I was the daughter of Lambert Hutchins, Lillian Stewart
I was the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge. Knowlt Hoheimer
I was the laughing-stock of the village, Tennessee Claflin Shope
I was the milliner Mrs. Williams
I was the only child of Frances Harris of Virginia Hamilton Greene
I was the Sunday school superintendent, Henry Phipps
I was the Widow McFarlane, Widow McFarlane
I was well known and much beloved Josiah Tompkins
I was Willie Metcalf. Willie Metcalf
I went to the dances at Chandlerville, Lucinda Matlock
I went up and down the streets Doc Hill
I who kept the greenhouse, Samuel Gardner
I winged my bird, Bert Kessler
I won the prize essay at school John Horace Burleson
I would have been as great as George Eliot Margaret Fuller Slack
I would I had thrust my hands of flesh Edmund Pollard
I wrote him a letter asking him for old times’ sake Hannah Armstrong
I, born in Weimar Russian Sonia
I, the scourge-wielder, balance-wrecker, State’s Attorney Fallas
If a man could bite the giant hand Robert Fulton Tanner
If I could have lived another year Franklin Jones
If the excursion train to Peoria Barney Hainsfeather
If the learned Supreme Court of Illinois Roy Butler
If you in the village think that my work was a good one, A. D. Blood
In a lingering fever many visions come to you: Hamlet Micure
In life I was the town drunkard; Chase Henry
In my Spanish cloak, Andy the Night-Watch
In the last spring I ever knew, Russell Kincaid
In the lust of my strength John Ballard
In youth my wings were strong and tireless, Alexander Throckmorton
Is it true, Spoon River, E. C. Culbertson
It is true, fellow citizens, Justice Arnett
It never came into my mind Hon. Henry Bennett
It was just like everything else in life: Mickey M’Grew
It was moonlight, and the earth sparkled Silas Dement
It was only a little house of two rooms⁠— Felix Schmidt
Jonas Keene thought his lot a hard one Albert Schirding
Knowlt Hoheimer ran away to the war Lydia Puckett
Maurice, weep not, I am not here under this pine tree. Sarah Brown
Mr. Kessler, you know, was in the army, Mrs. Kessler
My father who owned the wagon-shop Percy Bysshe Shelley
My life’s blossom might have bloomed on all sides Serepta Mason
My mind was a mirror: Ernest Hyde
My mother was for woman’s rights Oaks Tutt
My name used to be in the papers daily Hortence Robbins
My parents thought that I would be Walter Simmons
My thanks, friends of the County Scientific Association, Perry Zoll
My valiant fight! For I call it valiant, Jefferson Howard
My wife lost her health, Willard Fluke
Neither spite, fellow citizens, John Cabanis
No other man, unless it was Doc Hill, Doctor Meyers
Not “a youth with hoary head and haggard eye,” Ami Green
Not character, not fortitude, not patience Amos Sibley
Not in that wasted garden Conrad Siever
Not, where the stairway turns in the dark, Jennie M’Grew
Nothing in life is alien to you: Ida Frickey
Observe the clasped hands! Percival Sharp
Of John Cabanis’ wrath and of the strife The Spooniad
Often Aner Clute at the gate Homer Clapp
Oh many times did Ernest Hyde and I Roger Heston
Oh, you young radicals and dreamers, Captain Orlando Killion
Oh! the dew-wet grass of the meadow in North Carolina John Wasson
On a mountain top above the clouds Judson Stoddard
Once in a while a curious weed unknown to me, William Jones
Only the chemist can tell, and not always the chemist, Trainor, the Druggist
Out of a cell into this darkened space⁠— Frank Drummer
Out of me unworthy and unknown Anne Rutledge
Out of the lights and roar of cities, Harmon Whitney
Over and over they used to ask me, Aner Clute
Passer-by, Mary McNeely
Passer-by, sin beyond any sin Jeremy Carlisle
Reading in Ovid the sorrowful story of Itys, Thomas Trebelyan
Reverend Wiley advised me not to divorce him Mrs. Charles Bliss
Rhodes’ slave! Selling shoes and gingham, Eugene Carman
Rich, honored by my fellow citizens, Washington McNeely
Samuel is forever talking of his elm⁠— Dow Kritt
Seeds in a dry pod, tick, tick, tick, Petit, the Poet
She loved me. Oh! how she loved me! Roscoe Purkapile
She took my strength by minutes, Fletcher McGee
Silent before the jury, Mrs. Merritt
Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter and Spring Rebecca Wasson
Suppose it is nothing but the hive: Davis Matlock
Suppose you stood just five feet two, Judge Selah Lively
Take note, passers-by, of the sharp erosions The Circuit Judge
Tell me, was Altgeld elected Governor? Magrady Graham
The bank broke and I lost my savings. Henry Tripp
The buzzards wheel slowly Dillard Sissman
The cooper should know about tubs. Griffy the Cooper
The earth keeps some vibration going Fiddler Jones
The idea danced before us as a flag; Many Soldiers
The pine woods on the hill, Charles Webster
The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked, Carl Hamblin
The Prohibitionists made me Town Marshal The Town Marshal
The secret of the stars⁠—gravitation. Mrs. Sibley
The sudden death of Eugene Carman Clarence Fawcett
The very fall my sister Nancy Knapp Barry Holden
The white men played all sorts of jokes on me. Shack Dye
Their spirits beat upon mine Benjamin Fraser
There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above Wallace Ferguson
There by the window in the old house William H. Herndon
There is something about Death William and Emily
There is the caw of a crow, Jonathan Houghton
There would be a knock at the door Jeduthan Hawley
They brought me ambrotypes Rutherford McDowell
They called me the weakling, the simpleton, Willie Pennington
They first charged me with disorderly conduct, Wendell P. Bloyd
They got me into the Sunday school Yee Bow
They have chiseled on my stone the words: Cassius Hueffer
They laughed at me as “Prof. Moon,” Alfonso Churchill
They told me I had three months to live, Isaiah Beethoven
They would have lynched me Jack McGuire
This I saw with my own eyes: Thomas Ross, Jr.
This weeping willow! Columbus Cheney
To all in the village I seemed, no doubt, William Goode
To be able to see every side of every question; Editor Whedon
To this generation I would say: Mrs. George Reece
Together in this grave lie Benjamin Pantier, attorney at law, Benjamin Pantier
Toward the last Julian Scott
Vegetarian, non-resistant, free-thinker, in ethics a Christian; W. Lloyd Garrison Standard
Very well, you liberals, Thomas Rhodes
We quarreled that morning, Julia Miller
We stand about this place⁠—we, the memories; Edith Conant
Well, don’t you see this was the way of it: Nancy Knapp
Well, Emily Sparks, your prayers were not wasted, Reuben Pantier
Were you not ashamed, fellow citizens, Nicholas Bindle
What but the love of God could have softened Elmer Karr
What do you see now? Dippold the Optician
“What will you do when you come to die, Le Roy Goldman
When Fort Sumter fell and the war came Jacob Goodpasture
When I died, the circulating library Seth Compton
When I first came to Spoon River Richard Bone
When I went to the city, Mary McNeely, Daniel M’Cumber
When my moustache curled, Lucius Atherton
When Reuben Pantier ran away and threw me Dora Williams
Whenever the Presbyterian bell J. Milton Miles
Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley, The Hill
Where is my boy, my boy⁠— Emily Sparks
While I was handling Dom Pedro Jim Brown
Who carved this shattered harp on my stone? Joseph Dixon
Whoever thou art who passest by Henry Layton
Why are you running so fast hither and thither Plymouth Rock Joe
Why did Albert Schirding kill himself Jonas Keene
Why did you bruise me with your rough places Voltaire Johnson
Why was I not devoured by self-contempt, Alfred Moir
With our hearts like drifting suns, had we but walked, Caroline Branson
Ye aspiring ones, listen to the story of the unknown The Unknown
Ye who are kicking against Fate, Calvin Campbell
Ye young debaters over the doctrine The Village Atheist
Yes, here I lie close to a stunted rose bush Amelia Garrick
You are over there, Father Malloy, Father Malloy
You may think, passer-by, that Fate Lyman King
You never marveled, dullards of Spoon River, Harry Carey Goodhue
You never understood, O unknown one, Harlan Sewall
You observe the carven hand Marie Bateson
You praise my self-sacrifice, Spoon River, Constance Hately
You would not believe, would you, “Indignation” Jones
Your attention, Thomas Rhodes, president of the bank; Kinsey Keene
Your red blossoms amid green leaves Mabel Osborne

All poets.