Poem by Edgar Lee Masters

A.D. Blood

If you in the village think that my work was a good one,
Who closed the saloons and stopped all playing at cards,
And haled old Daisy Fraser before Justice Arnett,
In many a crusade to purge the people of sin;
Why do you let the milliner’s daughter Dora,
And the worthless son of Benjamin Pantier,
Nightly make my grave their unholy pillow?

1. O Glorious France
2. Robert Davidson
3. Caroline Branson
4. Percival Sharp
5. Sersmith the Dentist

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