Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

81. The Encyclopaedia 1/3/2003
82. The Dreamer 4/10/2010
83. In Memory Of A Child 1/3/2003
84. My Lady In Her White Silk Shawl 1/3/2003
85. The Trap 1/3/2003
86. The Master Of The Dance 1/3/2003
87. Galahad, Knight Who Perished 1/3/2003
88. Epitaphs For Two Players 1/3/2003
89. The Empty Boats 1/3/2003
90. King Solomon And The Queen Of Sheba 4/10/2010
91. The Firemen's Ball 1/3/2003
92. The Drunkard's Funeral 1/3/2003
93. The Dangerous Little Boy Fairies 4/10/2010
94. The North Star Whispers To The Blacksmith's Son 1/3/2003
95. The Merciful Hand 1/3/2003
96. Yankee Doodle 1/3/2003
97. The Unpardonable Sin 1/3/2003
98. The Haughty Snail-King 1/3/2003
99. The Song Of The Garden-Toad 1/3/2003
100. The Flower Of Mending 1/3/2003
101. With A Bouquet Of Twelve Roses 1/3/2003
102. The Mysterious Cat 1/3/2003
103. What The Gray-Winged Fairy Said 1/3/2003
104. The Illinois Village 1/3/2003
105. The Traveller-Heart 1/3/2003
106. John Brown 4/10/2010
107. The Conscientious Deacon 4/10/2010
108. The Horrid Voice Of Science 4/10/2010
109. On The Road To Nowhere 1/3/2003
110. The Dandelion 1/3/2003
111. Simon Legree 4/10/2010
112. Look You, I'Ll Go Pray 1/3/2003
113. Eden In Winter 1/3/2003
114. My Lady Is Compared To A Young Tree 4/10/2010
115. The Tale Of The Tiger-Tree 1/3/2003
116. Niagara 1/3/2003
117. We Meet At The Judgment And I Fear It Not 1/3/2003
118. The Soul Of The City Receives The Gift Of The Holy Spirit 1/3/2003
119. Crickets On A Strike 4/10/2010
120. Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan 11/15/2011
Best Poem of Vachel Lindsay

The Congo: A Study Of The Negro Race

I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY

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.
THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,
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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