All Poems
/ page 2340 of 3210 /King Arthur's Men Have Come Again
© Vachel Lindsay
[Written while a field-worker in the Anti-Saloon League of Illinois.]
King Arthur's men have come again.
They challenge everywhere
The foes of Christ's Eternal Church.
The Settle An The Girt Wood Vire
© William Barnes
Ah! naïghbour John, since I an' you
Wer youngsters, ev'ry thing is new.
The King of Yellow Butterflies
© Vachel Lindsay
(A Poem Game.)
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
The King of Yellow Butterflies,
Dying Speech Of An Old Philosopher
© Walter Savage Landor
I strove with none, for none was worth my strife:
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art:
I warmd both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks; and I am ready to depart.
Darling Daughter of Babylon
© Vachel Lindsay
Too soon you wearied of our tears.
And then you danced with spangled feet,
Leading Belshazzar's chattering court
A-tinkling through the shadowy street.
An Orchard Dance
© Norman Rowland Gale
All work is over at the farm
And men and maids are ripe for glee;
Beyond the Moon
© Vachel Lindsay
M< Sweetheart is the TRUTH BEYOND THE MOON,
And never have I been in love with Woman,
Always aspiring to be set in tune
With one who is invisible, inhuman.
Before The Rain
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
We knew it would rain, for all the morn
A spirit on slender ropes of mist
Was lowering its golden buckets down
Into the vapory amethyst.
Here's to the Mice!
© Vachel Lindsay
(Written with the hope that the socialists might yet dethrone Kaiser and Czar.)
Here's to the mice that scare the lions,
Creeping into their cages.
Here's to the fairy mice that bite
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 6.
© Alfred Tennyson
O mother, praying God will save
Thy sailor,-while thy head is bow'd,
His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud
Drops in his vast and wandering grave.
Popcorn, Glass Balls, and Cranberries
© Vachel Lindsay
The Lion is a kingly beast.
He likes a Hindu for a feast.
And if no Hindu he can get,
The lion-family is upset.
The Cry Eternal
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
To hear this lone and this most stricken call
Of all earth's prayers that pierce the eternal height
And by the closéd doors of Heaven fall
What woman's heart can bear it through the night?
St. Francis of Assisi
© Vachel Lindsay
Would I might wake St. Francis in you all,
Brother of birds and trees, God's Troubadour,
Blinded with weeping for the sad and poor;
Our wealth undone, all strict Franciscan men,
Mark Twain and Joan of Arc
© Vachel Lindsay
When Yankee soldiers reach the barricade
Then Joan of Arc gives each the accolade.For she is there in armor clad, today,
All the young poets of the wide world say.Which of our freemen did she greet the first,
Seeing him come against the fires accurst?Mark Twain, our Chief, with neither smile nor jest,
A Dirge for a Righteous Kitten
© Vachel Lindsay
To be intoned, all but the two italicized lines, which are to be spoken in a snappy, matter-of-fact way.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.
Here lies a kitten good, who kept
A kitten's proper place.
Bi-Focal
© William Stafford
Sometimes up out of this land
a legend begins to move.
Is it a coming near
of something under love?
A Curse for Kings
© Vachel Lindsay
A curse upon each king who leads his state,
No matter what his plea, to this foul game,
And may it end his wicked dynasty,
And may he die in exile and black shame.
The Leaden-Eyed
© Vachel Lindsay
Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
The Firemen's Ball
© Vachel Lindsay
"Many's the heart that's breaking
If we could read them all
After the ball is over."