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Collected poems by Vachel Lindsay

revised and illustrated edition

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II. Their Irrepressible High Spirits
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II. Their Irrepressible High Spirits

Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call

Rather shrill and high.


Danced the juba in their gambling hall
And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,
And guyed the policemen and laughed them down
With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, Boom.
Then I SAW THE Congo, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,

Read exactly as in first section.


Cutting THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.
A negro fairyland swung into view,

Lay emphasis on the delicate ideas. Keep as light-footed as possible.


A minstrel river
Where dreams come true.
The ebony palace soared on high

181

Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.
The inlaid porches and casements shone
With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.
And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore
At the baboon butler in the agate door,
And the well-known tunes of the parrot band
That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.
A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came

With pomposity.


Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,
Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust
And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.
And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call
And danced the juba from wall to wall.
But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng

With a great deliberation and ghostliness.


With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song:—
“Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.” ...
Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes,

With overwhelming assurance, good cheer, and pomp.


Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats,
Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,
And tall silk hats that were red as wine.
And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,

With growing speed and sharply marked dance-rhythm.


Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,
Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,
And bells on their ankles and little blackfeet.

182

And the couples railed at the chant and the frown
Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.
(Oh, rare was the revel, and well worth while
That made those glowering witch-men smile.)
The cake-walk royalty then began
To walk for a cake that was tall as a man
To the tune of “Boomlay, boomlay, Boom,”
While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,

With a touch of negro dialect, and as rapidly as possible toward the end.


And sang with the scalawags prancing there:—
“Walk with care, walk with care,
Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,
And all of the other Gods of the Congo,
Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.
Beware, beware, walk with care,
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom.
Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay,
Boom.”
(Oh rare was the revel, and well worth while

Slow philosophic calm.


That made those glowering witch-men smile.)