Vachel Lindsay

(November 10, 1879 – December 5, 1931 / Springfield, Illinois)

How A Little Girl Sang - Poem 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 head.

And so I saw what music was,
Tho' still accursed with ears of lead.


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Read poems about / on: music, happy, girl



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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