Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

121. The Eagle That Is Forgotten 1/3/2003
122. To Buddha 1/3/2003
123. I Went Down Into The Desert 1/3/2003
124. What The Moon Saw 1/3/2003
125. The City That Will Not Repent 1/3/2003
126. Davy Jones' Door-Bell 4/10/2010
127. The Moon Is A Painter 1/3/2003
128. On The Building Of Springfield 1/3/2003
129. Why I Voted The Socialist Ticket 1/3/2003
130. The Lion 1/3/2003
131. Heart Of God 1/3/2003
132. The Light O' The Moon 1/3/2003
133. The Beggar's Valentine 1/3/2003
134. The Booker Washington Trilogy 1/3/2003
135. Sunshine 1/3/2003
136. The North Star Whispers To The Blacksmith's Son 1/3/2003
137. Caught In A Net 1/3/2003
138. Concerning Emperors 1/3/2003
139. Written For A Musician 1/3/2003
140. The King Of Yellow Butterflies 1/3/2003
141. The Mysterious Cat 1/3/2003
142. Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan 11/15/2011
143. Two Old Crows 1/3/2003
144. An Apology For The Bottle Volcanic 1/3/2003
145. What Grandpa Mouse Said 4/10/2010
146. The Tree Of Laughing Bells 1/3/2003
147. Yet Gentle Will The Griffin Be 1/3/2003
148. The Strength Of The Lonely 1/3/2003
149. Mark Twain And Joan Of Arc 1/3/2003
150. The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque) 1/3/2003
151. How A Little Girl Sang 1/3/2003
152. Eden In Winter 1/3/2003
153. The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken 1/3/2003
154. Blanche Sweet 1/3/2003
155. The Angel And The Clown 1/3/2003
156. At Mass 1/3/2003
157. Lincoln 1/3/2003
158. What The Rattlesnake Said 1/3/2003
159. Springfield Magical 1/3/2003
160. Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1/3/2003

Comments about Vachel Lindsay

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

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

    14 person liked.
    17 person did not like.
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

Ghosts In Love

"Tell me, where do ghosts in love
Find their bridal veils?"

"If you and I were ghosts in love
We'd climb the cliffs of Mystery,
Above the sea of Wails.
I'd trim your gray and streaming hair
With veils of Fantasy
From the tree of Memory.
'Tis there the ghosts that fall in love
Find their bridal veils."

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