Nicholas Vachel Lindsay

“ Down from the sky, up from the smoking deep
Wild legends new and old burn round my bed
While trees and grass and men are wrapped in sleep.
Angels come down with Christmas in their hearts,
Gentle, whimsical, laughing, heaven-sent ”

“ THE Drunkards in the street are calling
one another,
Heeding not the night-wind, great of heart and
gay,—
Publicans and wantons—
Calling, laughing, calling,
While the Spirit bloweth Space and Time away. ”

“ And they all repented, a thousand strong,
From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong,
And slammed with their hymn-books till they shook the room
With “Glory, glory, glory,”
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And “Boom, boom, Boom.” ”

“ Shames that are living, loves and hopes long dead,
Consuming pride, and hunger, real, for bread.
Here by the curb, ye Prophets thunder deep:
"What Nations sow, they must expect to reap,"
Or haste to clothe the race with truth and power,
With hymns and shouts increasing every hour.
Useful are you. There stands the useless one
Who builds the Haunted Palace in the sun. ”

“ The merchants drive her out upon the road.
She makes a throne of sod beside our campfire.
We give the maiden-queen our rags and tears.
A battered, rascal guard have rallied round her,
To keep her safe until the better years. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Then I saw the congo, creeping through the black,
Cutting through the jungle with a golden track.
Then along that riverbank
A thousand miles
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Tattooed cannibals danced in files;
Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song
And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.
A rapidly piling climax of speed and racket
And “Blood!” screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,
“Blood!” screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors;
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“Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,
Harry the uplands,
Steal all the cattle,
Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,
Bing! ”

“ We heard the dawn-wind sing,
I made from ocean-wonders,
Her bridal wreath and ring.
All mortal girls were shadows,
All earth-life but a mist,
When deep beneath the maelstrom,
The mermaid's heart I kissed. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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.
Man is a curious brute—he pets his fancies—
Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury. ”

“ And on through the backwoods clearing flew:—
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“Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”
Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men,
And only the vulture dared again
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By the far, lone mountains of the moon
Dying down into a penetrating, terrified whisper
To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune:
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Mumbo ... Jumbo ... will ... hoo-doo ... you.” ”

“ We had not learned to speak,
I was to you a strange
Wolfing or wounded fawn,
Lost from his forest-range.
Thirsting for bloody meat,
Out at the dawn we went.
Weighted with our prey at eve,
Home-came we all forespent. ”

“ Fierce Cromwell builds the flower-bright towns,
And a more sunlit land!
And Lincoln's men have come again.
Up from the South he flayed,
The grandsons of his foes arise
In his own cause arrayed.
They rise for freedom and clean laws
High laws, that shall endure.
Our God establishes his arm
And makes the battle sure! ”

“ 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. ”

“ Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends
pale—
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:—
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) ”

“ The rose is as a dart.
The lotos is Nirvana:
The rose is Mary's heart.
The rose is deathless, restless,
The splendor of our pain:
The flush and fire of labor
That builds, not all in vain. . . . ”

“ Bordered in gold and blue,
And I read each line to the wind
And read to the roses too:
And they nodded their womanly heads
And told to the wall just why
For wine of the earth men bleed,
Kingdoms and empires die. ”

“ STAR of my heart, I follow from afar.
Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are,
Where Time is not, and only dreamers are.
Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead
And a foolish Saxon seeks the manager-bed. ”

“ Loves foemen brisk and game,
Tho', just to please the angels,
He may send down his flame.
God loves the golden leopard
Tho' he may spoil her lair.
God smites, yet loves the lion.
God makes the panther fair. ”

“ The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang:—
"Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?"
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare
On, on upward thro' the golden air! ”

“ Upon its panels written,
"Judgment is no more."
The bolt flew back with thunder,
I saw within that place
A mermaid wrapped in seaweed
With Mab's immortal face,
Yet grown now to a woman,
A woman to the knee. ”

“ For half a hundred years:
Men hurry so they have no griefs,
Nor even idle tears:
They hurry so they have no loves:
They cannot curse nor laugh—
Their hearts die in their youth with neither
Grave nor epitaph. ”

“ Such as comes if we have jail release.
Cards are puzzles, tho' the prize be gold,
Cards help not the bread that tastes of mold,
Cards dye not your hair to black more deep,
Cards make not the children cease to weep. ”

“ Seek to be as others are,
Stultify the soul.
Reapings now confront them,
Glut them, or destroy,
Curious seeds, grain or weeds
Sown with awful joy.
Hurried is their harvest,
They make soft peace with men. ”

“ Dancers that own immortal hours;
Painters that work upon their knees;
Maids, lovers, friends, so deep in life,
So deep in love and poet's deeds,
The railroad is a thing disowned,
The city but a field of weeds. ”

“ He comes with vaudeville, with stare and leer.
He comes with megaphone and specious cheer.
His troupe, too fat or short or long or lean,
Step from the pages of the magazine
With slapstick or sombrero or with cane:
The tube, the cowboy or the masher vain.
They over-act each part. But at the height
Of banter and of canter and delight
The masks fall off for one queer instant there
And show real faces: faces full of care
And desperate longing: love that's hot or cold ”

“ The tiger with velvet feet,
The lion, crept to the light
Whining for bullock meat.
We fed them and stroked their necks . . .
They took their way to the fen
Where they hunted or hid all night;
No enemies, they, of men. ”

“ Angels before the throne:
Kiss me and comfort my heart,
For love can never be mine:
Passion, hunger and pain,
These are the only wine
Of the pilgrim bound to the road.
He would rob no man of his own. ”

“ In Illinois.
Where ragged ditches ran
Now springs of Heaven began
Celestial drink for man
In Illinois.
There stood beside the town
Beneath its incense-crown
An angel and a clown
In Illinois. ”

“ BOOTH led boldly with his big bass drum—
(Are you washed in the blood of the
Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said:
"He's come."
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) ”

“ Let us make merry, and go forth in lust."
What will you trading frogs do on a day
When Armageddon thunders thro' the land;
When each sad patriot rises, mad with shame,
His ballot or his musket in his hand? ”

“ Only the farthest star
Is cool for willow wings.
"There's a sky within the west—
There's a sky beyond the skies
Where only one star shines—
The Star of Laughing Bells—
In Chaos-land it lies ”

“ Shaking the hills with power,
Slaying the hidden demons,
The lions that devour.
No bloodshed in the wrestling,—
But souls new-born arise—
The nations growing kinder,
The child-hearts growing wise. ”

“ Lining his walls with books from everywhere.
He read by night, be built his world by day.
The farm and house of God to him were one.
For forty years he preached and plowed and wrought—
A statesman in the fields, who bent to none. ”

“ The road is calling. With the winds you go,
Forgetting her imperious disdain—
Quenching all memory in the sun and rain."
"Excellent Lord, I come. But first," I said,
"Grand that I bring her these twelve roses red. ”

“ To the end in a strong fond life.
Her captor, by chance was one
Of those whose passion was done,
A cold fierce worm of the sea
Enslaving for you and me.
The wages the poor must take
Have forced them to serve this snake. ”

“ These caverns are their dwelling-place.
The Moon-Worms, serpents of the skies,
From the great hollows of her eyes
Behold all souls, and they are wise:
With tiny, keen and icy eyes,
Behold how each man sins and dies. ”

“ When all the smothering by-streets weep and wail;
When wisdom breaks the hearts of her best sons;
When kingly men, voting for truth, may fail :—
These are a portent and a call to arms.
Our protest turns into a battle cry:
"Our shame must end, our States be free and clean ”

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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. ”

“ Time has its way with you there and the clay has its own.
Sleep on, O brave hearted, O wise man, that
kindled the flame—
To live in mankind is far more than to live in
a name,
To live in mankind, far, far more * * * than
to live in a name. ”

“ But we were dressed for winters
And loved to hear it blow
In honor of the lady
Who makes potatoes grow—
Our guest, the Irish lady,
The tiny Irish lady,
The fairy Irish lady
That makes potatoes grow. ”

“ Toil is never ceasing.—We will play until we near it.
Tears are never ending.—When once real tears have come;
"When we see our people as they are—
Our fathers—broken, dumb—
Our mothers—broken, dumb—
The weariest of women and of men ”

“ In an hour, in an hour it was done!
The wings in their morning flight
Were a thousand times ten thousand times
More swift than beams of light.
He Gives What He Won to the Indian Girl
I panted in the grassy wood ”

“ Psalms that cannot pass away.
"David waits," the prophet answers,
"In a black notorious den,
In a cave upon the border
With four hundred outlaw men.
"He is fair, and loved of women,
Mighty-hearted, born to sing ”