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In Praise Of Johnny Appleseed In Praise Of Johnny Appleseed

In Praise Of Johnny Appleseed
IN PRAISE OF JOHNNY APPLESEED(1) (Born 1775. Died 1847)(Footnote 1: The best account of John Chapman's career, under the name "Johnny Appleseed," is to be found in Harper's Monthly Magazine, November, 1871.) I. ~Over the Appalachian Barricade~ (Sidenote: To be read like old leaves on the elm tree of Time. Sifting soft winds with sentence and rhyme.) In the days of President Washington, The glory of the nations, Dust and ashes, Snow and sleet, And hay and oats and wheat,... Poems - Post by : Gilles_Turbide - Date : September 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3341

I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry

I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry
Oh, gipsies, proud and stiff-necked and perverse, Saying: "We tell the fortunes of the nations, And revel in the deep palm of the world. The head-line is the road we choose for trade. The love-line is the lane wherein we camp. The life-line is the road we wander on. Mount Venus, Jupiter, and all the rest Are finger-tips of ranges clasping round And holding up the Romany's wide sky." Oh, gipsies, proud and stiff-necked and perverse, Saying: "We will swap horses till the doom, And mend the pots and kettles... Poems - Post by : rushindo - Date : September 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2179

On The Building Of Springfield On The Building Of Springfield

On The Building Of Springfield
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of London still, That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome. Record it for the grandson of your son-- A city is not builded in a day: Our little town cannot complete her soul Till countless generations pass away. Now let each child be joined as to a church To her perpetual hopes, each man ordained: Let every street be made a reverent aisle Where Music grows and Beauty is unchained.... Poems - Post by : lichtde - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3338

The Illinois Village The Illinois Village

The Illinois Village
O you who lose the art of hope, Whose temples seem to shrine a lie, Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear, Who weep that Liberty must die, Turn to the little prairie towns, Your higher hope shall yet begin. On every side awaits you there Some gate where glory enters in. Yet when I see the flocks of girls, Watching the Sunday train go thro' (As tho' the whole wide world went by) With eyes that long to travel too, I sigh, despite my soul made glad... Poems - Post by : barnone - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 1813

The Proud Farmer The Proud Farmer

The Proud Farmer
(In memory of E. S. Frazee, Rush County, Indiana) Into the acres of the newborn state He poured his strength, and plowed his ancient name, And, when the traders followed him, he stood Towering above their furtive souls and tame. That brow without a stain, that fearless eye Oft left the passing stranger wondering To find such knighthood in the sprawling land, To see a democrat well-nigh a king. He lived with liberal hand, with guests from far, With talk and joke and fellowship to spare,-- Watching the wide world's... Poems - Post by : FayeB - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 1180

The Song Of The Garden-toad The Song Of The Garden-toad

The Song Of The Garden-toad
Down, down beneath the daisy beds, O hear the cries of pain! And moaning on the cinder-path They're blind amid the rain. Can murmurs of the worms arise To higher hearts than mine? I wonder if that gardener hears Who made the mold all fine And packed each gentle seedling down So carefully in line? I watched the red rose reaching up To ask him if he heard Those cries that stung the evening earth Till all the rose-roots stirred. She asked him if he felt the... Poems - Post by : Raphael_Love - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3298

Beyond The Moon Beyond The Moon

Beyond The Moon
(Written to the Most Beautiful Woman in the World) My 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. O laughing girl, cold TRUTH has stepped between, Spoiling the fevers of your virgin face: Making your shining eyes but lead and clay, Mocking your brilliant brain and lady's grace. TRUTH haunted me the day I wooed and lost, The day I wooed and won, or wooed in play: Tho' you... Poems - Post by : magichearts - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2990

A Net To Snare The Moonlight A Net To Snare The Moonlight

A Net To Snare The Moonlight
(What the Man of Faith said) The dew, the rain and moonlight All prove our Father's mind. The dew, the rain and moonlight Descend to bless mankind. Come, let us see that all men Have land to catch the rain, Have grass to snare the spheres of dew, And fields spread for the grain. Yea, we would give to each poor man Ripe wheat and poppies red,-- A peaceful place at evening With the stars just overhead: A net to snare the moonlight, A sod spread to... Poems - Post by : Safari - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3036

The Light O' The Moon The Light O' The Moon

The Light O' The Moon
(How different people and different animals look upon the moon: showing that each creature finds in it his own mood and disposition) The Old Horse in the City The moon's a peck of corn. It lies Heaped up for me to eat. I wish that I might climb the path And taste that supper sweet. Men feed me straw and scanty grain And beat me till I'm sore. Some day I'll break the halter-rope And smash the stable-door, Run down the street and mount the... Poems - Post by : DrRich - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 855

The Dandelion The Dandelion

The Dandelion
O dandelion, rich and haughty, King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time, You have no humble hours. I like to see you bring a troop To beat the blue-grass spears, To scorn the lawn-mower that would be Like fate's triumphant shears. Your yellow heads are cut away, It seems your reign is o'er. By noon you raise a sea of stars More golden than before.(The end)Vachel Lindsay's poem: Dandelion... Poems - Post by : rikki - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 981

Queen Mab In The Village Queen Mab In The Village

Queen Mab In The Village
Once I loved a fairy, Queen Mab it was. Her voice Was like a little Fountain That bids the birds rejoice. Her face was wise and solemn, Her hair was brown and fine. Her dress was pansy velvet, A butterfly design. To see her hover round me Or walk the hills of air, Awakened love's deep pulses And boyhood's first despair; A passion like a sword-blade That pierced me thro' and thro': Her fingers healed the sorrow Her whisper would renew. We sighed and... Poems - Post by : mjsimpson - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3318

Genesis Genesis

Genesis
I was but a half-grown boy, You were a girl-child slight. Ah, how weary you were! You had led in the bullock-fight . . . We slew the bullock at length With knives and maces of stone. And so your feet were torn, Your lean arms bruised to the bone. Perhaps 'twas the slain beast's blood We drank, or a root we ate, Or our reveling evening bath In the fall by the garden gate, But you turned to a witching thing, Side-glancing, and frightened me; You... Poems - Post by : midwayusa - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2938

Eden In Winter Eden In Winter

Eden In Winter
(Supposed to be chanted to some rude instrument at a modern fireplace) Chant we the story now Tho' in a house we sleep; Tho' by a hearth of coals Vigil to-night we keep. Chant we the story now, Of the vague love we knew When I from out the sea Rose to the feet of you. Bird from the cliffs you came, Flew thro' the snow to me, Facing the icy blast There by the icy sea. How did I reach your feet? Why should I--at the... Poems - Post by : 35695 - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 1002

Caught In A Net Caught In A Net

Caught In A Net
Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not-- The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands, Were tangled black and white. My face I buried there. I pray-- So far from her to-night-- For grace, to dream I kiss her soul Amid the black and white.(The end)Vachel Lindsay's poem: Caught In A Net... Poems - Post by : Aslan - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2884

The Sorceress! The Sorceress!

The Sorceress!
I asked her, "Is Aladdin's lamp Hidden anywhere?" "Look into your heart," she said, "Aladdin's lamp is there." She took my heart with glowing hands. It burned to dust and air And smoke and rolling thistledown Blowing everywhere. "Follow the thistledown," she said, "Till doomsday, if you dare, Over the hills and far away. Aladdin's lamp is there."(The end)Vachel Lindsay's poem: Sorceress!... Poems - Post by : twistedpixel - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3637

Sweethearts Of The Year Sweethearts Of The Year

Sweethearts Of The Year
Sweetheart Spring Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us with desire. By her our God began to build, Began to sow and till. He laid foundations in our loves For every good and ill. We asked Him not for blessing, We asked Him not for pain-- Still, to the just and unjust He sent His fire and rain.Sweetheart Summer We prayed not, yet she came to us, The silken, shining one, On Jacob's noble ladder... Poems - Post by : boniellos - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2344

The Tree Of Laughing Bells, Or The Wings Of The Morning The Tree Of Laughing Bells, Or The Wings Of The Morning

The Tree Of Laughing Bells, Or The Wings Of The Morning
(A Poem for Aviators) How the Wings Were Made From many morning-glories That in an hour will fade, From many pansy buds Gathered in the shade, From lily of the valley And dandelion buds, From fiery poppy-buds Are the Wings of the Morning made.  The Indian Girl Who Made Them These, the Wings of the Morning, An Indian Maiden wove, Intertwining subtilely Wands from a willow grove Beside the Sangamon-- Rude stream of Dreamland Town. She bound them to my shoulders With fingers golden-brown.... Poems - Post by : Pontificator - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 1644

The Queen Of Bubbles The Queen Of Bubbles

The Queen Of Bubbles
(Written for a picture) The Youth speaks:-- "Why do you seek the sun In your bubble-crown ascending? Your chariot will melt to mist. Your crown will have an ending." The Goddess replies:-- "Nay, sun is but a bubble, Earth is a whiff of foam-- To my caves on the coast of Thule Each night I call them home. Thence Faiths blow forth to angels And loves blow forth to men-- They break and turn to nothing... Poems - Post by : pgoodison - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 2685

Ghosts In Love Ghosts In Love

Ghosts In Love
"Tell me do ghosts in love Find their bridal veils?" "If you and I were ghosts in love We'd climb the cliffs of Mystery, Above the sea of Wails. I'd trim your gray and streaming hair With veils of Fantasy From the tree of Memory. 'Tis there the ghosts that fall in love Find their bridal veils."(The end)Vachel Lindsay's poem: Ghosts In Love... Poems - Post by : blinky - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 3304

How A Little Girl Sang How A Little Girl Sang

How A Little Girl Sang
Ah, she was music in herself, A symphony of joyousness. She sang, she sang from finger tips, From every tremble of her dress. I saw sweet haunting harmony, An ecstasy, an ecstasy, In that strange curling of her lips, That happy curling of her lips. And quivering with melody Those eyes I saw, that tossing head. And so I saw what music was, Tho' still accursed with ears of lead.(The end)Vachel Lindsay's poem: How A Little Girl Sang... Poems - Post by : FleaMarketGuru - Date : March 2011 - Author : Vachel Lindsay - Read : 1990