George gray spoon river. Contents. Masters, Edgar Lee. 1916. Spoon River Anthology 2019-02-04

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Edgar Lee Masters'

george gray spoon river

She started the talk of the mortgaged farm, And I killed her. Blood, In his night shirt, waving a stick of wood, And roaring about the cursed saloons, And the criminals they made? With one last, mighty struggle did he grasp The murderous hands and turning kick his foe. So I made gardens and raked the lawns And bought John Alden's books with my earnings And toiled for the very means of life. I reached my hand, but saw no brier, But something pricked and stung and numbed it. But even so, if I divorced the woman I must forsake the ministry. I learned nothing and returned home, Roaming the fields with Bert Kessler, Hunting quail and snipe. I have read this book about 50 times, in bits and pieces, and about a half-dozen from start to finish in order.

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Commento: George Gray

george gray spoon river

Campbell, Calvin Carman, Eugene Cheney, Columbus Childers, Elizabeth Church, John M. Stealing odd pleasures that cost me prestige, And reaping evils I had not sown; Foe of the church with its charnel dankness, Friend of the human touch of the tavern; Tangled with fates all alien to me, Deserted by hands I called my own. When I came back from Joliet There was a new court house with a dome. Marie Bateson You observe the carven hand With the index finger pointing heavenward. Now there's a flag over me in Spoon River.

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Contents. Masters, Edgar Lee. 1916. Spoon River Anthology

george gray spoon river

He died March 5, 1950, in a convalescent home in Philadelphia and was buried in Petersburg, Illinois. Bandle quarreled As to whether Ipava was a finer town than Table Grove. Some even had messages for the living. And all the weak, the halt, the improvident And those who could not pay flocked to me. Malgrado tutto avevo fame di un significato nella vita.

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64. George Gray. Masters, Edgar Lee. 1916. Spoon River Anthology

george gray spoon river

What could I say to people who thought That a woman of thirty-five was at fault When her lover of nineteen killed her husband? It is well to abstain from murder and lust, To forgive, do good to others, worship God Without graven images. The wreck was due to the president, Thomas Rhodes, And his vain, unscrupulous son. But when the hog-eyed one Saw Bengal Mike his countenance grew dark, The bristles o'er his red eyes twitched with rage, The song he rumbled lowered. I pretended to believe it, though I knew very well What he was doing, and that he met The milliner, Mrs. One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God, So I tried to make friends with Him; But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet. So I cursed and cursed: You damned old thing You cowardly dog! In youth my mind was just a mirror In a rapidly flying car, Which catches and loses bits of the landscape. Impermeabile alla poesia, sono stato alluvionato da una raccolta di epitaffi.

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These questions refer to from The Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters

george gray spoon river

But later, as I lived among the people here, I knew how near to the life Were the epitaphs that were ordered for them as they died. Whereupon Brutus sprang upon me, And killed me. It was like a pool of water, Amid oak trees at the edge of a forest, Where the leaves fall, As you hear the crow of a cock From a far--off farm house, seen near the hills Where the third generation lives, and the strong men And the strong women are gone and forgotten. A mirror scratched reflects no image-- And this is the silence of wisdom. Sometimes a man's life turns into a cancer From being bruised and continually bruised, And swells into a purplish mass Like growths on stalks of corn. Why, with all of my errant steps Did I miss the fate of Willard Fluke? Take note, ye prudent and pious souls, Of the cross--currents in life Which bring honor to the dead, who lived in shame How does it happen, tell me, That I who was most erudite of lawyers, Who knew Blackstone and Coke Almost by heart, who made the greatest speech The court-house ever heard, and wrote A brief that won the praise of Justice Breese How does it happen, tell me, That I lie here unmarked, forgotten, While Chase Henry, the town drunkard, Has a marble block, topped by an urn Wherein Nature, in a mood ironical, Has sown a flowering weed? To be judged by you, The soul of me hidden from you, With its wound gangrened By love for a wife who made the wound, With her cold white bosom, treasonous, pure and hard, Relentless to the last, when the touch of her hand, At any time, might have cured me of the typhus, Caught in the jungle of life where many are lost.

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George Gray by Edgar Lee Masters

george gray spoon river

And when I tried to drive him--well, He ran away and killed me. O maternal Earth, which rocks the fallen leaf to sleep. My soul flew up ten thousand miles And only the moon looked a little bigger. If I saw a soul that was strong I wounded its pride and devoured its strength. She was a hunk of sculptor's clay, My secret thoughts were fingers: They flew behind her pensive brow And lined it deep with pain. But two of the children thought he was right, And two of the children thought I was right.

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Spoon River/Tilbury Town Flashcards

george gray spoon river

Quindi è in questo che consiste forse la giovinezza perenne degli uomini e delle donne di Spoon River: nel coraggio di dire a tutti il proprio tormento, sperando anche da morti di trovare nell'ascolto altrui un conforto, una consolazione. For things that are new grow old at length, They're replaced with better or none at all: People are prospering or falling back. Now I am here to do honor To Spoon River, here beside the family whence I sprang. There is a mighty shade here who sings Of one named Beatrice; And I see now that the force that made him great Drove me to the dregs of life. Fling yourselves in the fire, die with a song of spring, If die you must in the spring. Hear me, ambitious souls, Sex is the curse of life.


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64. George Gray. Masters, Edgar Lee. 1916. Spoon River Anthology

george gray spoon river

But few die, none resign. I, lover of Nature, beloved for my love of her, Held such converse afar with the great Who knew her better than I. Have you walked with the wind in your ears And the sunlight about you And found it suddenly shine with an inner splendor? George Gray, gray, perché è vecchio, ormai, è vecchio per combattere, doveva combattere quando era in tempo, ora, è tardi perché vecchio e senza forze. Did it occur to you that personal liberty Is liberty of the mind, Rather than of the belly? Yet I know that I vanquished your spirit; And I know that lying here far from you, Unheard of among your great friends In the brilliant world where you move, I am really the unconquerable power over your life That robs it of complete triumph. He poisoned me, I think. What is the best way to give energy and pizzazz to your writing? And the bargain was made.

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