They got me into the Sunday-school
In Spoon River
And tried to get me to drop Confucius for Jesus.
I could have been no worse off
If I had tried to get them to drop Jesus for Confucius.
For, without any warning, as if it were a prank,
And sneaking up behind me, Harry Wiley,
The minister’s son, caved my ribs into my lungs,
With a blow of his fist.
Now I shall never sleep with my ancestors in Pekin,
And no children shall worship at my grave.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Edgar Lee Masters's poem Yee Bow

1 Comment

  1. ea says:

    This one is very poignant. There was something called “The Chinese Jail” in the town I grew up in which had something to do with people who had come to work on the railroads or in the mines. It just makes you wonder how it could possibly have been for them in the 1800s and how little has changed.

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