Carl Sandburg Poems

Dreams in the dusk,
Only dreams closing the day
And with the day’s close going back
To the gray things, the dark things,
...

Under the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
...

Hope is a tattered flag and a dream of time.
Hope is a heartspun word, the rainbow, the shadblow in white
The evening star inviolable over the coal mines,
The shimmer of northern lights across a bitter winter night,
...

The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
...

I saluted a nobody.
I saw him in a looking-glass.
He smiled--so did I.
He crumpled the skin on his forehead, frowning--so did I.
...

Everybody loved Chick Lorimer in our town.
Far off
Everybody loved her.
So we all love a wild girl keeping a hold
...

The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
Restless as a young heart,
Hunting.
...

Night from a railroad car window
Is a great, dark, soft thing
...

A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads,
And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh
...

I Am the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is
done through me?
...