Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan (Vachel Lindsay Poems)
IIn a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things ...
IIn a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things ...
'BusGREAT walls of green,City that is afar.We gallop alongAlert and penetrating,Roads open about us,Housetops keep at a distance.Soft-curling tendrils,Swim backwards ...
We aren't much to look at if you judge us by the map;Just a little bunch of Islands in the ...
The horses of day plunge and are restrainedDawn broadens to quarter height, and the meadow mistsDrift like gauze veilings, the ...
Vocat aestus in umbram Nemesianus Es. IV. E. P. Ode pour l'?lection de son s?pulchre For three years, out of ...
(Begin breezily):In Lady Lusher's drawing-room, where float the strains of ...
We will go no more to Shaemus, at the Nip, for sly innuendo and an Oporto Flip, the rough but ...
What have we missed? Now he returns no moreWe are left with but our blindness to deplore,But, concentrating on his ...
This is the phrase they love to say:"Just like a man!"You can hear it wherever you chance to stray:"Just like ...
this evangelistbuttons with his big gollywog voicethe kingdomofheaven up behind and crazilyskating thither and hither in filthy sawdustchucks and rollsagainst ...
The sky-like limpid eyes,The circular infant's face,The stiffness from spats to collarNever relaxing into grace;The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai ...
Six days a king of trade, his mightDowns opposition; Sunday dawnHe puts his spats and piety on,To greater King an ...
Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones-- In fact, he's remarkably fat. He doesn't haunt pubs--he has eight or nine ...
The Cowboy had a sterling heart, The Maiden was from Boston, The Rancher saw his wealth depart- The Steers were ...
Composed of chalk dust, Pencil shavings and The sharp odour Of stale urine; It meets me now and then Creeping ...
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound ...
When young I was a Socialist Despite my tender years; No blessed chance I ever missed To slam the profiteers. ...
Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land, Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows. In the great hour of destiny they ...
Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land, Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows. In the great hour of destiny they ...
"Vocat aestus in umbram" Nemesianus Es. IV. E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre For three years, out of ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories