Lucinda Matlock

　　 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