How a Little Girl Danced by Vachel Lindsay
DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain. I know a dancer, I know a dancer, Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain: Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer, With […]
Honor Among Scamps by Vachel Lindsay
We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless. We slept thro’ wars where Honor could not sleep. We were faint-hearted. Honor was full-valiant. We kept a silence Honor could not keep. Yet this late day we make a song to praise her. We, codeless, will yet vindicate her code. She who was mighty, walks […]
Here’s to the Mice! by Vachel Lindsay
(Written with the hope that the socialists might yet dethrone Kaiser and Czar.) Here’s to the mice that scare the lions, Creeping into their cages. Here’s to the fairy mice that bite The elephants fat and wise: Hidden in the hay-pile while the elephant thunder rages. Here’s to the scurrying, timid mice Through whom the […]
Heart of God by Vachel Lindsay
O great heart of God, Once vague and lost to me, Why do I throb with your throb to-night, In this land, eternity? O little heart of God, Sweet intruding stranger, You are laughing in my human breast, A Christ-child in a manger. Heart, dear heart of God, Beside you now I kneel, Strong heart […]
On the Garden Wall by Vachel Lindsay
OH, once I walked a garden In dreams. ‘Twas yellow grass. And many orange-trees grew there In sand as white as glass. The curving, wide wall-border Was marble, like the snow. I walked that wall a fairy-prince And, pacing quaint and slow, Beside me were my pages, Two giant, friendly birds. Half swan they were, […]
On Reading Omar Khayyam by Vachel Lindsay
[During an anti-saloon campaign, in central Illinois.] In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish without me) And hid by a rose-hung wall, Forgetting the murder about me; And wrote, from my wound, on the stone, In mirth, half prayer, half play: — “Send me a picture book, Send me […]
Michaelangelo by Vachel Lindsay
Would I might wake in you the whirl-wind soul Of Michelangelo, who hewed the stone And Night and Day revealed, whose arm alone Could draw the face of God, the titan high Whose genius smote like lightning from the sky — And shall he mold like dead leaves in the grave? Nay he is in […]
Mark Twain and Joan of Arc by Vachel Lindsay
When Yankee soldiers reach the barricade Then Joan of Arc gives each the accolade. For she is there in armor clad, today, All the young poets of the wide world say. Which of our freemen did she greet the first, Seeing him come against the fires accurst? Mark Twain, our Chief, with neither smile nor […]
Look You, I’ll Go Pray by Vachel Lindsay
Look you, I’ll go pray, My shame is crying, My soul is gray and faint, My faith is dying. Look you, I’ll go pray — “Sweet Mary, make me clean, Thou rainstorm of the soul, Thou wine from worlds unseen.” ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by […]
Lincoln by Vachel Lindsay
Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all, That which is gendered in the wilderness From lonely prairies and God’s tenderness. Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream, Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream, Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave, Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire — Fire that freed […]
King Arthur’s Men Have Come Again by Vachel Lindsay
[Written while a field-worker in the Anti-Saloon League of Illinois.] King Arthur’s men have come again. They challenge everywhere The foes of Christ’s Eternal Church. Her incense crowns the air. The heathen knighthood cower and curse To hear the bugles ring, But spears are set, the charge is on, Wise Arthur shall be king! And […]
Incense by Vachel Lindsay
Think not that incense-smoke has had its day. My friends, the incense-time has but begun. Creed upon creed, cult upon cult shall bloom, Shrine after shrine grow gray beneath the sun. And mountain-boulders in our aged West Shall guard the graves of hermits truth-endowed: And there the scholar from the Chinese hills Shall do deep […]
In Memory of a Child by Vachel Lindsay
I The angels guide him now, And watch his curly head, And lead him in their games, The little boy we led. II He cannot come to harm, He knows more than we know, His light is brighter far Than daytime here below. III His path leads on and on, Through pleasant lawns and flowers, […]
I Went Down into the Desert by Vachel Lindsay
I went down into the desert To meet Elijah— Arisen from the dead. I thought to. find him in an echoing cave; For so my dream had said. I went down into the desert To meet John the Baptist. I walked with feet that bled, Seeking that prophet lean and brown and bold. I spied […]
How a Little Girl Sang by Vachel Lindsay
Ah, she was music in herself, A symphony of joyousness. She sang, she sang from finger tips, From every tremble of her dress. I saw sweet haunting harmony, An ecstasy, an ecstasy, In that strange curling of her lips, That happy curling of her lips. And quivering with melody Those eyes I saw, that tossing […]
How a Little Girl Danced by Vachel Lindsay
DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain. I know a dancer, I know a dancer, Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain: Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer, With […]
Honor Among Scamps by Vachel Lindsay
We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless. We slept thro’ wars where Honor could not sleep. We were faint-hearted. Honor was full-valiant. We kept a silence Honor could not keep. Yet this late day we make a song to praise her. We, codeless, will yet vindicate her code. She who was mighty, walks […]
Here’s to the Mice! by Vachel Lindsay
(Written with the hope that the socialists might yet dethrone Kaiser and Czar.) Here’s to the mice that scare the lions, Creeping into their cages. Here’s to the fairy mice that bite The elephants fat and wise: Hidden in the hay-pile while the elephant thunder rages. Here’s to the scurrying, timid mice Through whom the […]
Heart of God by Vachel Lindsay
O great heart of God, Once vague and lost to me, Why do I throb with your throb to-night, In this land, eternity? O little heart of God, Sweet intruding stranger, You are laughing in my human breast, A Christ-child in a manger. Heart, dear heart of God, Beside you now I kneel, Strong heart […]
General William Booth Enters into Heaven by Vachel Lindsay
[To be sung to the tune of The Blood of the Lamb with indicated instrument] I [Bass drum beaten loudly.] Booth led boldly with his big bass drum — (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.” (Are you washed in the blood of the […]
Galahad, Knight Who Perished by Vachel Lindsay
A POEM DEDICATED TO ALL CRUSADERS AGAINST THE INTERNATIONAL AND INTERSTATE TRAFFIC IN YOUNG GIRLS Galahad . . . soldier that perished . . . ages ago, Our hearts are breaking with shame, our tears overflow. Galahad . . . knight who perished . . . awaken again, Teach us to fight for immaculate ways […]
Foreign Missions in Battle Array by Vachel Lindsay
An endless line of splendor, These troops with heaven for home, With creeds they go from Scotland, With incense go from Rome. These, in the name of Jesus, Against the dark gods stand, They gird the earth with valor, They heed their King’s command. Onward the line advances, Shaking the hills with power, Slaying the […]
Factory Windows are Always Broken by Vachel Lindsay
FACTORY windows are always broken. Somebody’s always throwing bricks, Somebody’s always heaving cinders, Playing ugly Yahoo tricks. Factory windows are always broken. Other windows are let alone. No one throws through the chapel-window The bitter, snarling, derisive stone. Factory windows are always broken. Something or other is going wrong. Something is rotten–I think, in Denmark. […]
Euclid by Vachel Lindsay
OLD Euclid drew a circle On a sand-beach long ago. He bounded and enclosed it With angles thus and so. His set of solemn greybeards Nodded and argued much Of arc and circumference, Diameter and such. A silent child stood by them From morning until noon Because they drew such charming Round pictures of the […]
Epitaphs For Two Players by Vachel Lindsay
I. EDWIN BOOTH An old actor at the Player’s Club told me that Edwin Booth first impersonated Hamlet when a barnstormer in California. There were few theatres, but the hotels were provided with crude assembly rooms for strolling players. The youth played in the blear hotel. The rafters gleamed with glories strange. And winds of […]
Epilogue by Vachel Lindsay
UNDER THE BLESSING OF YOUR PSYCHE WINGS Though I have found you llke a snow-drop pale, On sunny days have found you weak and still, Though I have often held your girlish head Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:— Under the blessing of your Psyche-wings I hide to-night like one small broken bird, […]
Elizabeth Barrett Browning by Vachel Lindsay
Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sat gossiping with Robert. (She was really a raving beauty in her day. With Mary Pickford curls in clouds and whirls.) She was trying to think of something nice to say, So she pointed to a page by her fellow star and sage, And said: “I wish that I could write that […]
Drying Their Wings by Vachel Lindsay
What the Carpenter Said THE moon’s a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of light, A sparkle through the pane, Showing the place is brighter still Within, though bright without. There, at a cosy open fire Strange babes are grouped about. The children of the […]
Concerning Emperors by Vachel Lindsay
I. GOD SEND THE REGICIDE Would that the lying rulers of the world Were brought to block for tyrannies abhorred. Would that the sword of Cromwell and the Lord, The sword of Joshua and Gideon, Hewed hip and thigh the hosts of Midian. God send that ironside ere tomorrow’s sun; Let Gabriel and Michael with […]
At Mass by Vachel Lindsay
No doubt to-morrow I will hide My face from you, my King. Let me rejoice this Sunday noon, And kneel while gray priests sing. It is not wisdom to forget. But since it is my fate Fill thou my soul with hidden wine To make this white hour great. My God, my God, this marvelous […]
An Indian Summer Day on the Prarie by Vachel Lindsay
(IN THE BEGINNING) THE sun is a huntress young, The sun is a red, red joy, The sun is an indian girl, Of the tribe of the Illinois. (MID-MORNING) The sun is a smouldering fire, That creeps through the high gray plain, And leaves not a bush of cloud To blossom with flowers of rain. […]
An Apology for the Bottle Volcanic by Vachel Lindsay
Sometimes I dip my pen and find the bottle full of fire, The salamanders flying forth I cannot but admire. It’s Etna, or Vesuvius, if those big things were small, And then ’tis but itself again, and does not smoke at all. And so my blood grows cold. I say, “The bottle held but ink, […]
Above the Battle’s Front by Vachel Lindsay
St. Francis, Buddha, Tolstoi, and St. John — Friends, if you four, as pilgrims, hand in hand, Returned, the hate of earth once more to dare, And walked upon the water and the land, If you, with words celestial, stopped these kings For sober conclave, ere their battle great, Would they for one deep instant […]
A Rhyme About an Electrical Advertising Sign by Vachel Lindsay
I LOOK on the specious electrical light Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white, Wickedly red or malignantly green Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen. Showing, while millions of souls hurry on, The virtues of collars, from sunset till dawn, By dart or by tumble of whirl within whirl, Starting new fads for the shame-weary […]
A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People by Vachel Lindsay
Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven? Are these your hands upon my wounded soul? Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me, Fly by my path till you have made me whole! ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. […]
A Net to Snare the Moonlight by Vachel Lindsay
[What the Man of Faith said] The dew, the rain and moonlight All prove our Father’s mind. The dew, the rain and moonlight Descend to bless mankind. Come, let us see that all men Have land to catch the rain, Have grass to snare the spheres of dew, And fields spread for the grain. Yea, […]