Edgar Lee Masters
Edgar Lee Masters Poems
|169.||Margaret Fuller Slack||1/3/2003|
|174.||Mrs. Benjamin Painter||1/3/2003|
|175.||Mrs. George Reece||1/3/2003|
|185.||O Glorious France||1/3/2003|
|188.||On A Bust||1/3/2003|
|189.||On A Picture Of John D. Rockefeller||4/9/2010|
|194.||Penniwit, The Artist||1/3/2003|
|196.||Percy Bysshe Shelley||1/3/2003|
|198.||Petit, The Poet||1/3/2003|
|199.||Plymouth Rock Joe||1/3/2003|
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me --
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the ...
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,"