Silas Dement

It was moon-light, and the earth sparkled         With new-fallen frost.         It was midnight and not a soul abroad.         Out of the chimney of the court-house         A gray-hound of smoke leapt and chased         The northwest wind.         I carried a ladder to the landing of the stairs         And leaned it against the frame of the trap-door         In the ceiling of the portico,         And I crawled under the roof and amid the rafters         And flung among the seasoned timbers         A lighted handful of oil-soaked waste.         Then I came down and slunk away.         In a little while the fire-bell rang -         Clang! Clang! Clang!         And the Spoon River ladder company         Came with a dozen buckets and began to pour water         On the glorious bon-fire, growing hotter         Higher and brighter, till the walls fell in         And the limestone columns where Lincoln stood         Crashed like trees when the woodman fells them.         When I came back from Joliet         There was a new court house with a dome.         For I was punished like all who destroy         The past for the sake of the future.