Life poems
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In MemoriamRev. J. J. Lyons
© Emma Lazarus
ROSH-HASHANAH, 5638.
The golden harvest-tide is here, the corn
Born of Water
© George MacDonald
Methought I stood among the stars alone,
Watching a grey parched orb which onward flew
The Ghosts of the Buffaloes
© Vachel Lindsay
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry,
The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high,
The floor was a-tremble, the door was a-jar,
White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar.
How I Walked Alone in the Jungles of Heaven
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, once I walked in Heaven, all alone
Upon the sacred cliffs above the sky.
God and the angels, and the gleaming saints
Had journeyed out into the stars to die.
The Crisis
© John Greenleaf Whittier
ACROSS the Stony Mountains, o'er the desert's drouth and sand,
The circles of our empire touch the western ocean's strand;
From slumberous Timpanogos, to Gila, wild and free,
Flowing down from Nuevo-Leon to California's sea;
hastee apnee Hubaab kee see hai
© Meer Taqi Meer
O Meer! The drowsiness in those dreamy eyes,
Is just like that of wine
Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket
© Vachel Lindsay
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice.
My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness.
I, the unloving, say life should be lovely.
I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness.
The Proud Farmer
© Vachel Lindsay
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.
Aladdin and the Jinn
© Vachel Lindsay
"Bring me soft song," said Aladdin.
"This tailor-shop sings not at all.
Chant me a word of the twilight,
Of roses that mourn in the fall.
The Drunkard's Funeral
© Vachel Lindsay
"You are right, little sister," I said to myself,
"You are right, good sister," I said.
"Though you wear a mussy bonnet
On your little gray head,
You are right, little sister," I said.
The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque)
© Vachel Lindsay
This is the order of the music of the morning:
First, from the far East comes but a crooning.
The crooning turns to a sunrise singing.
Hark to the calm -horn, balm -horn, psalm -horn.
Hark to the faint -horn, quaint -horn, saint -horn. . . .
Love's Mesmerism.
© Robert Crawford
When you are with me I put by the world
In having you. When I can hear and see you,
All else is dark and dumb; or is it, Sweet,
You then are all, and I the dreamer know
An Argument
© Vachel Lindsay
I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIASWe find your soft Utopias as white
As new-cut bread, and dull as life in cells,
O, scribes who dare forget how wild we are
How human breasts adore alarum bells.
The Dover Bitch: A Criticism Of Life
© Anthony Evan Hecht
So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
From "Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship" - Book V, Chap. X
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
SING no more in mournful tones
Of the loneliness of night;
Buddha
© Vachel Lindsay
Would that by Hindu magic we became
Dark monks of jeweled India long ago,
Sitting at Prince Siddartha's feet to know
The foolishness of gold and love and station,
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.
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.
