The Chinese Nightingale (Vachel Lindsay Poems)
A Song in Chinese Tapestries "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said, "San Francisco sleeps as the dead- Ended ...
A Song in Chinese Tapestries "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said, "San Francisco sleeps as the dead- Ended ...
A chant to which it is intended a group of children shall dance and improvise pantomime led by their dancing-teacher. ...
SECTION ONE "Give the engines room, Give the engines room." Louder, faster The little band-master Whips up the fluting, Hurries ...
Kiss me and comfort my heart Maiden honest and fine. I am the pilgrim boy Lame, but hunting the shrine; ...
A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may ...
O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie, Whose sidewalks are but stones ...
M< sweetheart="" is="" the="" truth="" beyond="" the="" moon,=""> And never have ...
(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.) I heard Immanuel singing ...
I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut ...
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
I asked the old Negro, "What is that bird that sings so well?" He answered: "That is the Rachel-Jane." "Hasn't ...
On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father's house With your cheeks ...
Once I loved a fairy, Queen Mab it was. Her voice Was like a little Fountain That bids the birds ...
TRUE Love is founded in rocks of Remembrance In stones of Forbearance and mortar of pain. The workman lays wearily ...
Who now will praise the Wizard in the street With loyal songs, with humors grave and ...
In Springfield, Illinois IT is portentious, and a thing of state That here at midnight, in our little town A ...
Oh, once I walked in Heaven, all alone Upon the sacred cliffs above the sky. God and the angels, and ...
I I hate this yoke; for the world's sake here put it on: Knowing 'twill weigh as much on you ...
A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the ...
"He could not forget that he was a Sidney." Is this Sir Philip Sidney, this ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
Though I have watched so many mourners weep O'er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep- Those dead seemed ...
Life's a jail where men have common lot. Gaunt the one who has, and who has not. All our treasures ...
FOR A VERY LITTLE GIRL, NOT A YEAR OLD. CATHARINE FRAZEE WAKEFIELD. The sun gives not directly The coal, the ...
She was taught desire in the street, Not at the angels' feet. By the good no word was said Of ...
This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung ...
The wide Pacific waters And the Atlantic meet. With cries of joy they mingle, In tides of love they greet. ...
"Tell me, where do ghosts in love Find their bridal veils?" "If you and I were ghosts in love We'd ...
Sweetheart Spring Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us ...
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