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 ...
I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut ...
An endless line of splendor, These troops with heaven for home, With creeds they go from Scotland, With incense go ...
How the Wings Were Made From many morning-glories That in an hour will fade, From many ...
(Being a Chant of the American Soap-Box and the Russian Revolution.) O market square, O slattern place, Is glory in ...
O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie, Whose sidewalks are but stones ...
THIS section is a Christmas tree: Loaded with pretty toys for you. Behold the blocks, the Noah's arks, The popguns ...
I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room, Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable, Sagged and reeled and ...
I I hate this yoke; for the world's sake here put it on: Knowing 'twill weigh as much on you ...
DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes ...
(Written with the hope that the socialists might yet dethrone Kaiser and Czar.) Here's to the mice that scare the ...
Too soon you wearied of our tears. And then you danced with spangled feet, Leading Belshazzar's chattering court A-tinkling through ...
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