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.









