Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket (Vachel Lindsay Poems)
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice. My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness. I, the ...
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice. My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness. I, the ...
Oh, once I walked in Heaven, all alone Upon the sacred cliffs above the sky. God and the angels, and ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
THE moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; ...
Life's a jail where men have common lot. Gaunt the one who has, and who has not. All our treasures ...
I I hate this yoke; for the world's sake here put it on: Knowing 'twill weigh as much on you ...
[This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the ...
Though I have watched so many mourners weep O'er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep- Those dead seemed ...
She was taught desire in the street, Not at the angels' feet. By the good no word was said Of ...
A Song in Chinese Tapestries "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said, "San Francisco sleeps as the dead- Ended ...
A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers are swinging, Look overhead! Censers are swinging, ...
SECTION ONE "Give the engines room, Give the engines room." Louder, faster The little band-master Whips up the fluting, Hurries ...
(To a Man who maintained that the Mausoleum is the Stateliest Possible Manner of Interment) I would be one with ...
A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may ...
The whole world on a raft! A King is here, The record of his grandeur but a smear. Is it ...
I. THE LION The Lion is a kingly beast. He likes a Hindu for a feast. And if no Hindu ...
Kiss me and comfort my heart Maiden honest and fine. I am the pilgrim boy Lame, but hunting the shrine; ...
Would that by Hindu magic we became Dark monks of jeweled India long ago, Sitting at Prince Siddartha's feet to ...
O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie, Whose sidewalks are but stones ...
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 ...
"Yes," said the sister with the little pinched face, The busy little sister with the funny little tract: - "This ...
"Bring me soft song," said Aladdin. "This tailor-shop sings not at all. Chant me a word of the twilight, Of ...
Into the acres of the newborn state He poured his strength, ...
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