Vachel Lindsay

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

Vachel Lindsay Poems

161. The Light O' The Moon 1/3/2003
162. Our Mother Pocahontas 1/3/2003
163. The Ghosts Of The Buffaloes 1/3/2003
164. An Argument 1/3/2003
165. The Wedding Of The Rose And The Lotos 1/3/2003
166. The Strength Of The Lonely 1/3/2003
167. The Mysterious Cat 1/3/2003
168. A Prayer To All The Dead Among Mine Own People 1/3/2003
169. A Curse For Kings 1/3/2003
170. Shakespeare 1/3/2003
171. On The Garden Wall 1/3/2003
172. St. Francis Of Assisi 1/3/2003
173. The Tree Of Laughing Bells 1/3/2003
174. A Rhyme About An Electrical Advertising Sign 1/3/2003
175. Euclid 1/3/2003
176. Ghosts In Love 1/3/2003
177. How A Little Girl Danced 1/3/2003
178. A Net To Snare The Moonlight 1/3/2003
179. The Spider And The Ghost Of The Fly 1/3/2003
180. Drying Their Wings 1/3/2003
181. Buddha 1/3/2003
182. Alone In The Wind, On The Prairie 1/3/2003
183. Aladdin And The Jinn 1/3/2003
184. By The Spring, At Sunset 1/3/2003
185. Love And Law 1/3/2003
186. General William Booth Enters Into Heaven 1/3/2003
187. The Chinese Nightingale 1/3/2003
188. The Flower-Fed Buffaloes 1/3/2003
189. The Potatoes' Dance 1/3/2003
190. Beyond The Moon 1/3/2003
191. A Dirge For A Righteous Kitten 1/3/2003
192. Darling Daughter Of Babylon 1/3/2003
193. This Section Is A Christmas Tree 1/3/2003
194. The Moon's The North Wind's Cooky 1/3/2003
195. The Little Turtle 1/3/2003
196. A Sense Of Humor 1/3/2003
197. Factory Windows Are Always Broken 1/3/2003
198. Star Of My Heart 1/3/2003
199. An Indian Summer Day On The Prairie 1/3/2003
200. The Leaden-Eyed 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 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

Heart Of God

O great heart of God,
Once vague and lost to me,
Why do I throb with your throb to-night,
In this land, eternity?

O little heart of God,
Sweet intruding stranger,
You are laughing in my human breast,
A Christ-child in a manger.

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