Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

1. Michaelangelo 1/3/2003
2. What The Ghost Of The Gambler Said 1/3/2003
3. Galahad, Knight Who Perished 1/3/2003
4. Epilogue 1/3/2003
5. What The Miner In The Desert Said 1/3/2003
6. The Raft 1/3/2003
7. What The Sexton Said 1/3/2003
8. The Proud Farmer 1/3/2003
9. The Bankrupt Peace-Maker 1/3/2003
10. Foreign Missions In Battle Array 1/3/2003
11. Our Guardian Angels And Their Children 1/3/2003
12. Who Knows? 1/3/2003
13. The Wizard In The Street 1/3/2003
14. Incense 1/3/2003
15. Where Is David, The Next King Of Israel? 1/3/2003
16. The Alchemist's Petition 1/3/2003
17. The Drunkards In The Street 1/3/2003
18. An Apology For The Bottle Volcanic 1/3/2003
19. Where Is The Real Non-Resistant 1/3/2003
20. A Colloquial Reply: To Any Newsboy 4/10/2010
21. John Bunny, Motion Picture Comedian 4/10/2010
22. Kalamazoo 4/10/2010
23. On Receiving One Of Gloriana’s Letters 4/10/2010
24. On Suddenly Receiving A Curl Long Refused 4/10/2010
25. Once More—to Gloriana 4/10/2010
26. Speak Now For Peace 4/10/2010
27. The Voice Of The Man Impatient With Visions And Utopias 4/10/2010
28. What The Forester Said 4/10/2010
29. What The Hyena Said 4/10/2010
30. On Reading Omar Khayyam 1/3/2003
31. The Rhymer’s Reply. Incense And Splendor 4/10/2010
32. The Doll Upon The Topmost Bough 4/10/2010
33. Edwin Booth 4/10/2010
34. The Jingo And The Minstrel 1/3/2003
35. The Amaranth 1/3/2003
36. Above The Battle's Front 1/3/2003
37. King Arthur's Men Have Come Again 1/3/2003
38. This, My Song, Is Made For Kerensky 1/3/2003
39. Prologue To Rhymes To Be Traded For Bread 1/3/2003
40. The Booker Washington Trilogy 1/3/2003

Comments about Vachel Lindsay

  • James Horn, Poet (5/2/2018 7:02:00 AM)

    Very impressive. He, Robert Frost, Ogden Nash and Will rogers are my inspiration.

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  • Peter Harter (6/10/2007 4:50:00 PM)

    if anyone knows where to get CD recordings of Vachel Lindsay reading email me:

Best Poem of Vachel Lindsay

The Flower-Fed Buffaloes

The flower-fed buffaloes of the spring
In the days of long ago,
Ranged where the locomotives sing
And the prairie flowers lie low:—
The tossing, blooming, perfumed grass
Is swept away by the wheat,
Wheels and wheels and wheels spin by
In the spring that still is sweet.
But the flower-fed buffaloes of the spring
Left us, long ago.
They gore no more, they bellow no more,
They trundle around the hills no more:—
With the Blackfeet, lying low,
With the Pawnees, lying low,
Lying low.

Read the full of The Flower-Fed Buffaloes

On The Garden Wall

Oh, once I walked a garden
In dreams. 'Twas yellow grass.
And many orange-trees grew there
In sand as white as glass.
The curving, wide wall-border
Was marble, like the snow.
I walked that wall a fairy-prince
And, pacing quaint and slow,
Beside me were my pages,

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