On the Building of Springfield (Vachel Lindsay Poems)
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
I thought he was dumb, said he was dumb, Yet I've heard him cry. First faint scream, Out of life's ...
Therefore I dare reveal my private woe, The secret blots of my imperfect heart, Nor strive to shrink or swell ...
Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping, Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping To sight, ...
From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas Oft come repenting tempests here to die; Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies, ...
At the open door of the room I stand and look at the night, Hold my hand to catch the ...
To-day the woods are trembling through and through With shimmering forms, that flash before my view, Then melt in green ...
The moon is broken in twain, and half a moon Before me lies on the still, pale floor of the ...
Frowning, the owl in the oak complained him Sore, that the song of the robin restrained him Wrongly of slumber, ...
My world is a painted fresco, where coloured shapes Of old, ineffectual lives linger blurred and warm; An endless tapestry ...
Oft seems the Time a market-town Where many merchant-spirits meet Who up and down and up and down Cry out ...
Life is a gift we're given each and every day. Dream about tomorrow, but live for today. To live a ...
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