 | Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay |  |
THE STRENGTH OF THE LONELY
(What the Mendicant Said)
The moon's a monk, unmated,
Who walks his cell, the sky.
His strength is that of heaven-vowed men
Who all life's flames defy.
Who walks his cell, the sky.
His strength is that of heaven-vowed men
Who all life's flames defy.
They turn to stars or shadows,
They go like snow or dew—
Leaving behind no sorrow—
Only the arching blue.
They go like snow or dew—
Leaving behind no sorrow—
Only the arching blue.
| Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | |