Genesis by Vachel Lindsay

I was but a half-grown boy, You were a girl-child slight. Ah, how weary you were! You had led in the bullock-fight… We slew the bullock at length With knives and maces of stone. And so your feet were torn, Your lean arms bruised to the bone. Perhaps ’twas the slain beast’s blood We drank, […]

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 […]

Eden in Winter by Vachel Lindsay

[Supposed to be chanted to some rude instrument at a modern fireplace] Chant we the story now Tho’ in a house we sleep; Tho’ by a hearth of coals Vigil to-night we keep. Chant we the story now, Of the vague love we knew When I from out the sea Rose to the feet of […]

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 […]

Darling Daughter of Babylon by Vachel Lindsay

Too soon you wearied of our tears. And then you danced with spangled feet, Leading Belshazzar’s chattering court A-tinkling through the shadowy street. With mead they came, with chants of shame. DESIRE’S red flag before them flew. And Istar’s music moved your mouth And Baal’s deep shames rewoke in you. Now you could drive 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 […]

Caught in a Net by Vachel Lindsay

Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not — The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands, Were tangled black and white. My face I buried there. I pray — So […]

By the Spring, at Sunset by Vachel Lindsay

Sometimes we remember kisses, Remember the dear heart-leap when they came: Not always, but sometimes we remember The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame Of laughter and farewell. Beside the road Afar from those who said “Good-by” I write, Far from my city task, my lawful load. Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder, […]

Buddha by Vachel Lindsay

Would that by Hindu magic we became Dark monks of jeweled India long ago, Sitting at Prince Siddartha’s feet to know The foolishness of gold and love and station, The gospel of the Great Renunciation, The ragged cloak, the staff, the rain and sun, The beggar’s life, with far Nirvana gleaming: Lord, make us Buddhas, […]

Blanche Sweet by Vachel Lindsay

MOVING-PICTURE ACTRESS (After seeing the reel called “Oil and Water.”) Beauty has a throne-room In our humorous town, Spoiling its hob-goblins, Laughing shadows down. Rank musicians torture Ragtime ballads vile, But we walk serenely Down the odorous aisle. We forgive the squalor And the boom and squeal For the Great Queen flashes From the moving […]

Beyond the Moon by Vachel Lindsay

[Written to the Most Beautiful Woman in the World] M< Sweetheart is the TRUTH BEYOND THE MOON, And never have I been in love with Woman, Always aspiring to be set in tune With one who is invisible, inhuman. O laughing girl, cold TRUTH has stepped between, Spoiling the fevers of your virgin face: Making […]

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 Argument by Vachel Lindsay

I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut bread, and dull as life in cells, O, scribes who dare forget how wild we are How human breasts adore alarum bells. You house us in a hive of prigs and saints Communal, frugal, clean […]

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, […]

Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie by Vachel Lindsay

I know a seraph who has golden eyes, And hair of gold, and body like the snow. Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair Is blowing round me, that desire’s sweet glow Has touched her pale keen face, and willful mien. And though she steps as one in manner born To tread the […]

Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight by Vachel Lindsay

In Springfield, Illinois IT is portentious, and a thing of state That here at midnight, in our little town A mourning figure walks, and will not rest, Near the old court-house, pacing up and down. Or by his homestead, or by shadowed yards He lingers where his children used to play, Or through the market, […]

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 Sense of Humor by Vachel Lindsay

NO man should stand before the moon To make sweet song thereon, With dandified importance, His sense of humor gone. Nay, let us don the motley cap, The jester’s chastened mien, If we would woo that looking-glass And see what should be seen. O mirror on fair Heaven’s wall, We find there what we bring. […]

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, […]

A Curse for Kings by Vachel Lindsay

A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black shame. If there is vengeance in the Heaven of Heavens, What punishment could Heaven devise for these Who fill the rivers of […]