Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

121. To Buddha 1/3/2003
122. I Went Down Into The Desert 1/3/2003
123. The Illinois Village 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. The Dandelion 1/3/2003
129. On The Building Of Springfield 1/3/2003
130. The Hope Of The Resurrection 1/3/2003
131. Why I Voted The Socialist Ticket 1/3/2003
132. The Lion 1/3/2003
133. Heart Of God 1/3/2003
134. The Beggar's Valentine 1/3/2003
135. The Booker Washington Trilogy 1/3/2003
136. Sunshine 1/3/2003
137. Caught In A Net 1/3/2003
138. Blanche Sweet 1/3/2003
139. Concerning Emperors 1/3/2003
140. Written For A Musician 1/3/2003
141. The King Of Yellow Butterflies 1/3/2003
142. Two Old Crows 1/3/2003
143. An Apology For The Bottle Volcanic 1/3/2003
144. What Grandpa Mouse Said 4/10/2010
145. The Tree Of Laughing Bells 1/3/2003
146. The Light O' The Moon 1/3/2003
147. The Rose Of Midnight 1/3/2003
148. Yet Gentle Will The Griffin Be 1/3/2003
149. The Strength Of The Lonely 1/3/2003
150. Mark Twain And Joan Of Arc 1/3/2003
151. The Soul Of The City Receives The Gift Of The Holy Spirit 1/3/2003
152. Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan 11/15/2011
153. The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque) 1/3/2003
154. How A Little Girl Sang 1/3/2003
155. Above The Battle's Front 1/3/2003
156. The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken 1/3/2003
157. The Angel And The Clown 1/3/2003
158. At Mass 1/3/2003
159. The Perfect Marriage 1/3/2003
160. Lincoln 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.

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • 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 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


Would I might wake in you the whirl-wind soul
Of Michelangelo, who hewed the stone
And Night and Day revealed, whose arm alone
Could draw the face of God, the titan high
Whose genius smote like lightning from the sky —
And shall he mold like dead leaves in the grave?
Nay he is in us! Let us dare and dare.
God help us to be brave.

[Report Error]