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 ...
Climbing the heights of Berkeley Nightly I watch the West. There lies new San Francisco, Sea-maid in purple dressed, Wearing ...
O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie, Whose sidewalks are but stones ...
(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.) I heard Immanuel singing ...
"He could not forget that he was a Sidney." Is this Sir Philip Sidney, this ...
WRITTEN FOR LORADO TAFT'S STATUE OF BLACK HAWK AT OREGON, ILLINOIS To be given in the manner of the Indian ...
I The arts are old, old as the stones From which man carved the sphinx austere. Deep are the days ...
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