Elliott HawkinsI looked like Abraham Lincoln.I was one of you, Spoon River, in all fellowship,But standing for the rights of property and for order.A regular church attendant,Sometimes appearing in your town meetings to warn youAgainst the evils of discontent and envyAnd to denounce those who tried to destroy the Union,And to point to the peril of the Knights of Labor.My success and my example are inevitable influencesIn your young men and in generations to come,In spite of attacks of newspapers like theClarion;A regular visitor at SpringfieldWhen the Legislature was in sessionTo prevent raids upon the railroadsAnd the men building up the state.Trusted by them and by you, Spoon River, equallyIn spite of the whispers that I was a lobbyist.Moving quietly through the world, rich and courted.Dying at last, of course, but lying hereUnder a stone with an open book carved upon itAnd the words“Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”And now, you world-savers, who reaped nothing in lifeAnd in death have neither stones nor epitaphs,How do you like your silence from mouths stoppedWith the dust of my triumphant career?
I looked like Abraham Lincoln.I was one of you, Spoon River, in all fellowship,But standing for the rights of property and for order.A regular church attendant,Sometimes appearing in your town meetings to warn youAgainst the evils of discontent and envyAnd to denounce those who tried to destroy the Union,And to point to the peril of the Knights of Labor.My success and my example are inevitable influencesIn your young men and in generations to come,In spite of attacks of newspapers like theClarion;A regular visitor at SpringfieldWhen the Legislature was in sessionTo prevent raids upon the railroadsAnd the men building up the state.Trusted by them and by you, Spoon River, equallyIn spite of the whispers that I was a lobbyist.Moving quietly through the world, rich and courted.Dying at last, of course, but lying hereUnder a stone with an open book carved upon itAnd the words“Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”And now, you world-savers, who reaped nothing in lifeAnd in death have neither stones nor epitaphs,How do you like your silence from mouths stoppedWith the dust of my triumphant career?