To Mary Pickford – Vachel Lindsay

To Mary Pickford MOVING-PICTURE ACTRESS (On hearing she was leaving the moving-pictures for the stage.) Mary Pickford, doll divine, Year by year, and every day…

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The Queen Of Bubbles – Vachel Lindsay

The Queen Of Bubbles [Written for a picture] The Youth speaks: —: “Why do you seek the sun In your bubble-crown ascending? Your chariot will…

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The Encyclopaedia – Vachel Lindsay

The Encyclopaedia “If I could set the moon upon This table,” said my friend, “Among the standard poets And brouchures without end, And noble prints…

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Prologue To Rhymes To Be Traded For Bread – Vachel Lindsay

Prologue To Rhymes To Be Traded For Bread Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his…

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How A Little Girl Danced – Vachel Lindsay

How A Little Girl Danced DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes…

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At Mass – Vachel Lindsay

At Mass No doubt to-morrow I will hide My face from you, my King. Let me rejoice this Sunday noon, And kneel while gray priests…

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The Voice Of The Man Impatient With Visions And Utopias – Vachel Lindsay

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…

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The Master Of The Dance – Vachel Lindsay

The Master Of The Dance A chant to which it is intended a group of children shall dance and improvise pantomime led by their dancing-teacher….

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The Dandelion – Vachel Lindsay

The Dandelion O dandelion, rich and haughty, King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time, You have no humble hours. I like to see…

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On Reading Omar Khayyam – Vachel Lindsay

On Reading Omar Khayyam [During an anti-saloon campaign, in central Illinois.] In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish without…

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Euclid – Vachel Lindsay

Euclid 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…

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A Curse For Kings – Vachel Lindsay

A Curse For Kings A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may it…

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What The Forester Said – Vachel Lindsay

What The Forester Said The moon is but a candle-glow That flickers thro’ the gloom: The starry space, a castle hall: And Earth, the children’s…

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The Spice-Tree – Vachel Lindsay

The Spice-Tree This is the song The spice-tree sings: “Hunger and fire, Hunger and fire, Sky-born Beauty— Spice of desire,” Under the spice-tree Watch and…

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The Hope Of The Resurrection – Vachel Lindsay

The Hope Of The Resurrection Though I have watched so many mourners weep O’er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep— Those dead seemed…

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Sweet Briars Of The Stairways – Vachel Lindsay

Sweet Briars Of The Stairways We are happy all the time Even when we fight: Sweet briars of the stairways, Gay fairies of the grime;…

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King Arthur’s Men Have Come Again – Vachel Lindsay

King Arthur’s Men Have Come Again [Written while a field-worker in the Anti-Saloon League of Illinois.] King Arthur’s men have come again. They challenge everywhere…

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Darling Daughter Of Babylon – Vachel Lindsay

Darling Daughter Of Babylon Too soon you wearied of our tears. And then you danced with spangled feet, Leading Belshazzar’s chattering court A-tinkling through the…

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To Reformers In Despair – Vachel Lindsay

To Reformers In Despair ‘Tis not too late to build our young land right, Cleaner than Holland, courtlier than Japan, Devout like early Rome, with…

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The Prairie Battlements – Vachel Lindsay

The Prairie Battlements (To Edgar Lee Masters, with great respect) Here upon the prarie Is our ancestral hall. Agate is the dome, Cornelian the wall….

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The Drunkard’s Funeral – Vachel Lindsay

The Drunkard’s Funeral “Yes,” said the sister with the little pinched face, The busy little sister with the funny little tract: — “This is the…

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Popcorn, Glass Balls, And Cranberries – Vachel Lindsay

Popcorn, Glass Balls, And Cranberries I. THE LION The Lion is a kingly beast. He likes a Hindu for a feast. And if no Hindu…

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Honor Among Scamps – Vachel Lindsay

Honor Among Scamps We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless. We slept thro’ wars where Honor could not sleep. We were faint-hearted. Honor…

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An Argument – Vachel Lindsay

An Argument I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut bread, and dull…

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When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich – Vachel Lindsay

When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich He paid a Swede twelve bits an hour Just to invent a fancy style To spread the celebration paint…

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The Voyage – Vachel Lindsay

The Voyage What is my mast ? A pen. What are my sails ? Ten crescent moons. What is my sea? A bottle of ink….

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The Little Turtle – Vachel Lindsay

The Little Turtle A Recitation for Martha Wakefield, Three Years Old There was a little turtle. He lived in a box. He swam in a…

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The Chinese Nightingale – Vachel Lindsay

The Chinese Nightingale A Song in Chinese Tapestries “How, how,” he said. “Friend Chang,” I said, “San Francisco sleeps as the dead— Ended license, lust…

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Niagara – Vachel Lindsay

Niagara I Within the town of Buffalo Are prosy men with leaden eyes. Like ants they worry to and fro, (Important men, in Buffalo.) But…

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Foreign Missions In Battle Array – Vachel Lindsay

Foreign Missions In Battle Array An endless line of splendor, These troops with heaven for home, With creeds they go from Scotland, With incense go…

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Yet Gentle Will The Griffin Be – Vachel Lindsay

Yet Gentle Will The Griffin Be (What Grandpa told the Children) The moon? It is a griffin’s egg, Hatching to-morrow night. And how the little…

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What The Moon Saw – Vachel Lindsay

What The Moon Saw Two statesmen met by moonlight. Their ease was partly feigned. They glanced about the prairie. Their faces were constrained. In various…

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The Soul Of The City Receives The Gift Of The Holy Spirit – Vachel Lindsay

The Soul Of The City Receives The Gift Of The Holy Spirit A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers…

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The Hearth Eternal – Vachel Lindsay

The Hearth Eternal There dwelt a widow learned and devout, Behind our hamlet on the eastern hill. Three sons she had, who went to find…

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Sunshine – Vachel Lindsay

Sunshine FOR A VERY LITTLE GIRL, NOT A YEAR OLD. CATHARINE FRAZEE WAKEFIELD. The sun gives not directly The coal, the diamond crown; Not in…

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Kalamazoo – Vachel Lindsay

Kalamazoo Once, in the city of Kalamazoo, The gods went walking, two and two, With the friendly phoenix, the stars of Orion, The speaking pony…

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Concerning Emperors – Vachel Lindsay

Concerning Emperors I. GOD SEND THE REGICIDE Would that the lying rulers of the world Were brought to block for tyrannies abhorred. Would that the…

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To The United States Senate – Vachel Lindsay

To The United States Senate And must the Senator from Illinois Be this squat thing, with blinking, half-closed eyes? This brazen gutter idol, reared to…

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The Potatoes’ Dance – Vachel Lindsay

The Potatoes’ Dance (A Poem Game.) I “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “I saw a…

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The Eagle That Is Forgotten – Vachel Lindsay

The Eagle That Is Forgotten Sleep softly … eagle forgotten … under the stone. Time has its way with you there, and the clay has…

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Parvenu – Vachel Lindsay

Parvenu Where does Cinderella sleep? By far-off day-dream river. A secret place her burning Prince Decks, while his heart-strings quiver. Homesick for our cinder world,…

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How A Little Girl Sang – Vachel Lindsay

How A Little Girl Sang Ah, she was music in herself, A symphony of joyousness. She sang, she sang from finger tips, From every tremble…

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Alone In The Wind, On The Prairie – Vachel Lindsay

Alone In The Wind, On The Prairie I know a seraph who has golden eyes, And hair of gold, and body like the snow. Here…

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What The Scare-Crow Said – Vachel Lindsay

What The Scare-Crow Said The dim-winged spirits of the night Do fear and serve me well. They creep from out the hedges of The garden…

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The Unpardonable Sin – Vachel Lindsay

The Unpardonable Sin This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: — To speak of bloody power as right divine, And call on God to…

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The Lion – Vachel Lindsay

The Lion The Lion is a kingly beast. He likes a Hindu for a feast. And if no Hindu he can get, The lion-family is…

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The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken – Vachel Lindsay

The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken A little colt — broncho, loaned to the farm To be broken in time without fury or harm,…

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My Lady Is Compared To A Young Tree – Vachel Lindsay

My Lady Is Compared To A Young Tree When I see a young tree In its white beginning, With white leaves And white buds Barely…

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Galahad, Knight Who Perished – Vachel Lindsay

Galahad, Knight Who Perished A POEM DEDICATED TO ALL CRUSADERS AGAINST THE INTERNATIONAL AND INTERSTATE TRAFFIC IN YOUNG GIRLS Galahad . . . soldier that…

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Yankee Doodle – Vachel Lindsay

Yankee Doodle This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung to the tune…

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What The Coal-Heaver Said – Vachel Lindsay

What The Coal-Heaver Said The moon’s an open furnace door Where all can see the blast, We shovel in our blackest griefs, Upon that grate…

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The Sorceress! – Vachel Lindsay

The Sorceress! I asked her, “Is Aladdin’s lamp Hidden anywhere?” “Look into your heart,” she said, “Aladdin’s lamp is there.” She took my heart with…

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The Golden Whales Of California – Vachel Lindsay

The Golden Whales Of California Part I.A Short Walk Along the Coast Yes, I have walked in California, And the rivers there are blue and…

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Star Of My Heart – Vachel Lindsay

Star Of My Heart Star of my heart, I follow from afar. Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are, Where Time is not,…

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John Bunny, Motion Picture Comedian – Vachel Lindsay

John Bunny, Motion Picture Comedian In which he is remembered in similitude, by reference to Yorick, the king’s jester, who died when Hamlet and Ophelia…

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Crickets On A Strike – Vachel Lindsay

Crickets On A Strike The foolish queen of fairyland From her milk-white throne in a lily-bell, Gave command to her cricket-band To play for her…

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To Lady Jane – Vachel Lindsay

To Lady Jane Romance was always young. You come today Just eight years old With marvellous dark hair. Younger than Dante found you When you…

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The Perfect Marriage – Vachel Lindsay

The Perfect Marriage I I hate this yoke; for the world’s sake here put it on: Knowing ’twill weigh as much on you till life…

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The Drunkards In The Street – Vachel Lindsay

The Drunkards In The Street The Drunkards in the street are calling one another, Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and gay, — Publicans…

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Our Mother Pocahontas – Vachel Lindsay

Our Mother Pocahontas (Note: — Pocahontas is buried at Gravesend, England.) “Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in November or…

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