Stephen Vincent Benet

(1898 - 1943 / Pennsylvania / United States)

Stephen Vincent Benet Poems

1. Nos Immortales 1/3/2003
2. The Falconer Of God 3/30/2010
3. Rain After A Vaudeville Show 1/3/2003
4. Three Day's Ride 3/30/2010
5. The Fiddling Wood 3/30/2010
6. Portrait Of A Boy 1/3/2003
7. The General Public 1/3/2003
8. The City Revisited 1/3/2003
9. Portrait Of A Baby 1/3/2003
10. American Names 1/17/2015
11. The Innovator 1/3/2003
12. The Drug-Shop, Or, Endymion In Edmonstoun 1/3/2003
13. The Fiddling Wood 1/3/2003
14. Robert E. Lee 3/30/2010
15. The Congressmen Came Out To See Bull Run 3/30/2010
16. The Hemp 1/3/2003
17. Road And Hills 1/3/2003
18. The White Peacock 1/3/2003
19. Winged Man 1/3/2003
20. Talk 1/3/2003
21. The Mountain Whippoorwill 3/7/2012
22. Campus Sonnets: May Morning 3/30/2010
23. The Quality Of Courage 1/3/2003
24. Young Blood 1/3/2003
25. Ghosts Of A Lunatic Asylum 3/30/2010
26. The Breaking Point 1/3/2003
27. The Ballad Of William Sycamore [1790-1871] 3/30/2010
28. The Lover In Hell 1/3/2003
29. Campus Sonnets: Before An Examination 3/30/2010
30. Alexander Vi Dines With The Cardinal Of Capua 1/3/2003
31. Campus Sonnets: Return - 1917 3/30/2010
32. Campus Sonnets: Talk 3/30/2010
33. Nightmare Number Three 3/30/2010
34. 1936 3/30/2010
35. Dedication 1/3/2003
36. Army Of Northern Virginia 3/30/2010
37. Return - 1917 1/3/2003
38. Difference 3/30/2010
39. Before An Examination 1/3/2003
40. Music 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Stephen Vincent Benet

Colors

(For D. M. C.)

The little man with the vague beard and guise
Pulled at the wicket. "Come inside!" he said,
"I'll show you all we've got now -- it was size
You wanted? -- oh, dry colors! Well" -- he led
To a dim alley lined with musty bins,
And pulled one fiercely. Violent and bold
A sudden tempest of mad, shrieking sins
Scarlet screamed out above the battered gold
Of tins and picture-frames. I held my breath.
He tugged another hard -- and sapphire skies
Spread in vast quietude, serene as death,
O'er waves like crackled turquoise -- and my ...

Read the full of Colors

Dedication

To W. R. B.

And so, to you, who always were
Perseus, D'Artagnan, Lancelot
To me, I give these weedy rhymes
In memory of earlier times.
Now all those careless days are not.
Of all my heroes, you endure.

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