Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay :: :: University of Virginia Library

“Give the engines room,
Give the engines room.”
Louder, faster
The little band-master
Whips up the fluting,
Hurries up the tooting.
He thinks that he stands,
The reins in his hands,

To be read, or chanted, with the heavy buzzing bass of fire-engines pumping. In this passage the reading or chanting is shriller and higher.

In the fire-chief's place
In the night alarm chase.

320

The cymbals whang,
The kettledrums bang:—
“Clear the street,
Clear the street,
Clear the street—Boom, boom.
In the evening gloom,
In the evening gloom,
Give the engines room,
Give the engines room,
Lest souls be trapped
In a terrible tomb.”
The sparks and the pine-brands
Whirl on high
From the black and reeking alleys
To the wide red sky.
Hear the hot glass crashing,
Hear the stone steps hissing.
Coal-black streams
Down the gutters pour.
There are cries for help
From a far fifth floor.
For a longer ladder
Hear the fire-chief call.
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
“'Tis the

To be read or chanted in a heavy bass.

Night
Of doom.”
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.
“Night
Of doom.”
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.

321

Faster, faster
The red flames come.
“Hum grum,” say the engines,
“Hum grum grum.”
“Buzz, buzz,”

Shriller and higher.

Says the crowd.
“See, see,”
Calls the crowd.
“Look out,”
Yelps the crowd
And the high walls fall:—
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
Listen to the music
Of the firemen's ball.
“'Tis the

Heavy bass.

Night
Of doom,”
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.
Night
Of doom,
Say the ding-dong doom-bells.
Whangaranga, whangaranga,
Whang, whang, whang,
Clang, clang, clangaranga,

Bass, much slower.

Clang, clang, clang.
Clang—a—ranga—
Clang—a—ranga—
Clang—a—ranga—
Clang,
Clang,
Clang.
Listen—to—the—music—
Of the firemen's ball—