The Prohibitionists made me Town Marshal <br />When the saloons were voted out, <br />Because when I was a drinking man, <br />Before I joined the church, I killed a Swede <br />At the saw-mill near Maple Grove. <br />And they wanted a terrible man, <br />Grim, righteous, strong, courageous, <br />And a hater of saloons and drinkers, <br />To keep law and order in the village. <br />And they presented me with a loaded cane <br />With which I struck Jack McGuire <br />Before he drew the gun with which he killed me. <br />The Prohibitionists spent their money in vain <br />To hang him, for in a dream <br />I appeared to one of the twelve jurymen <br />And told him the whole secret story. <br />Fourteen years were enough for killing me.<br /><br />Edgar Lee Masters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-town-marshal/
