Lucinda Matlock

I went to the dances at Chandlerville,

And played snap-out at Winchester.

One time we changed partners,

Driving home in the midnight 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

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

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.