Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

1. Friends, I Will Not Cease 3/10/2015
2. The Voyage 3/23/2015
3. The Proud Farmer 1/3/2003
4. The Wizard In The Street 1/3/2003
5. The Queen Of Bubbles 1/3/2003
6. To The United States Senate 1/3/2003
7. The Doll Upon The Topmost Bough 4/10/2010
8. On Suddenly Receiving A Curl Long Refused 4/10/2010
9. Our Guardian Angels And Their Children 1/3/2003
10. Honor Among Scamps 1/3/2003
11. John Bunny, Motion Picture Comedian 4/10/2010
12. The Raft 1/3/2003
13. On Receiving One Of Gloriana’s Letters 4/10/2010
14. Where Is David, The Next King Of Israel? 1/3/2003
15. What The Hyena Said 4/10/2010
16. Who Knows? 1/3/2003
17. What The Sexton Said 1/3/2003
18. Genesis 1/3/2003
19. What The Miner In The Desert Said 1/3/2003
20. Incense 1/3/2003
21. Once More—to Gloriana 4/10/2010
22. How Samson Bore Away The Gates Of Gaza 1/3/2003
23. Where Is The Real Non-Resistant 1/3/2003
24. The Voice Of The Man Impatient With Visions And Utopias 4/10/2010
25. Edwin Booth 4/10/2010
26. Mae Marsh, Motion Picture Actress 1/3/2003
27. The Rhymer’s Reply. Incense And Splendor 4/10/2010
28. The Modest Jazz-Bird 4/10/2010
29. The Alchemist's Petition 1/3/2003
30. The Bankrupt Peace-Maker 1/3/2003
31. This, My Song, Is Made For Kerensky 1/3/2003
32. On Reading Omar Khayyam 1/3/2003
33. The Prairie Battlements 1/3/2003
34. How I Walked Alone In The Jungles Of Heaven 1/3/2003
35. What The Forester Said 4/10/2010
36. The Drunkards In The Street 1/3/2003
37. I Heard Immanuel Singing 1/3/2003
38. To Mary Pickford 1/3/2003
39. To Jane Addams At The Hague 1/3/2003
40. Kalamazoo 4/10/2010
Best Poem of Vachel Lindsay

The Congo: A Study Of The Negro Race


Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
A deep rolling bass.
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard as they were able,
Boom, boom, BOOM,
With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.
THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.
I could not turn from their revel in derision.
More deliberate. Solemnly ...

Read the full of The Congo: A Study Of The Negro Race

Aladdin And The Jinn

"Bring me soft song," said Aladdin.
"This tailor-shop sings not at all.
Chant me a word of the twilight,
Of roses that mourn in the fall.
Bring me a song like hashish
That will comfort the stale and the sad,
For I would be mending my spirit,
Forgetting these days that are bad,
Forgetting companions too shallow,

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