Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||
335
AFTER READING THE SAD STORY OF THE FALL OF BABYLON
O Lady, my city, and new flower of the prairieWhat have we to do with this long time ago?
O lady love,
Bud of tomorrow,
With eyes that hold the hundred years
Yet to ebb and flow,
And breasts that burn
With great-great-grandsons
All their valor, all their tears,
A century hence shall know,
What have we to do
With this long time ago?
Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||