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 ...
[How different people and different animals look upon the moon: showing that each creature finds in it his own mood ...
In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish ...
Life's a jail where men have common lot. Gaunt the one who has, and who has not. All our treasures ...
I know a seraph who has golden eyes, And hair of gold, and body like the snow. Here in the ...
I Within the town of Buffalo Are prosy men with leaden eyes. Like ants they worry to and fro, (Important ...
The wide Pacific waters And the Atlantic meet. With cries of joy they mingle, In tides of love they greet. ...
Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world's greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter ...
Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . . Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and ...
I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room, Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable, Sagged and reeled and ...
The Drunkards in the street are calling one another, Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and gay, - Publicans ...
EVEN the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world's greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter ...
(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.) I heard Immanuel singing ...
Romance was always young. You come today Just eight years old With marvellous dark hair. Younger than Dante found you ...
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung ...
A Song in Chinese Tapestries "How, how," he said. "Friend Chang," I said, "San Francisco sleeps as the dead- Ended ...
I asked the old Negro, "What is that bird that sings so well?" He answered: "That is the Rachel-Jane." "Hasn't ...
I. A NEGRO SERMON:-SIMON LEGREE (To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.) Legree's big house was white ...
A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the ...
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