Poem by Edgar Lee Masters

Francis Turner

I could not run or play
In boyhood.
In manhood I could only sip the cup,
Not drink --
For scarlet-fever left my heart diseased.
Yet I lie here
Soothed by a secret none but Mary knows:
There is a garden of acacia,
Catalpa trees, and arbors sweet with vines --
There on that afternoon in June
By Mary's side --
Kissing her with my soul upon my lips
It suddenly took flight. 

1. O Glorious France
2. Robert Davidson
3. Caroline Branson
4. E.C. Culbertson
5. Judson Stoddard

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