Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay revised and illustrated edition |
1. |
2. |
1. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
7. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
3. |
8. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
9. |
1. |
2. |
10. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
11. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||
Obeying the fiddler's merry command,
Tennessee,
In the shining form of a child,
Holds out her white hand.
Then a village Apocalypse indeed!
Taylor's news films of the future,
His merry Orphic games for his every dreaming creature,
Set to the Dixie tunes of “Kingdom Come,”
Tunes for stubborn souls,
No longer blind or dumb.
Tennessee,
In the shining form of a child,
Holds out her white hand.
Then a village Apocalypse indeed!
Taylor's news films of the future,
His merry Orphic games for his every dreaming creature,
Set to the Dixie tunes of “Kingdom Come,”
Tunes for stubborn souls,
No longer blind or dumb.
Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay | ||