At Mass

    No doubt to-morrow I will hide
    My face from you, my King.
    Let me rejoice this Sunday noon,
    And kneel while gray priests sing.

    It is not wisdom to forget.
    But since it is my fate
    Fill thou my soul with hidden wine
    To make this white hour great.

    My God, my God, this marvelous hour
    I am your son I know.
    Once in a thousand days your voice
    Has laid temptation low.

Vachel Lindsay

Vachel Lindsay was an American poet known for his innovative performances of his poetry, which combined spoken word with music and theatrics. Born in Springfield, Illinois, Lindsay's work often revolved around American history and culture, reflecting his progressive social views. He played a significant role in the early 20th-century American poetry scene, influencing contemporaries and later poets with his dynamic style and passionate delivery.

Vachel Lindsay

The Traveller-heart

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Niagara

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

The Bankrupt Peace Maker

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Our Guardian Angels and Their Children

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

I Heard Immanuel Singing

(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.)

This poem is intended to be half said, half sung, very softly, to the well-known tune: -

            "Last night I lay a-sleeping,
            There came a dream so fair,
            I stood in Old Jerusalem
            Beside the temple there, - " etc.

Yet this tune is not to be fitted on, arbitrarily.    It is here given to suggest the manner of handling rather than determine it.


                    # To be sung. #
    I heard Immanuel singing
    Within his own good lands,
    I saw him bend above his harp.
    I watched his wandering hands
    Lost amid the harp-strings;
    Sweet, sweet I heard him play.
    His wounds were altogether healed.
   ...

Vachel Lindsay

Heart of God

    O great heart of God,
    Once vague and lost to me,
    Why do I throb with your throb to-night,
    In this land, eternity?

    O little heart of God,
    Sweet intruding stranger,
    You are laughing in my human breast,
    A Christ-child in a manger.

    Heart, dear heart of God,
    Beside you now I kneel,
    Strong heart of faith.    O heart not mine,
    Where God has set His seal.

    Wild thundering heart of God
    Out of my doubt I come,
    And my foolish feet with prophets' feet,
    March with the prophets' drum.

Vachel Lindsay

Look You, I'll Go Pray

    Look you, I'll go pray,
    My shame is crying,
    My soul is gray and faint,
    My faith is dying.
    Look you, I'll go pray -
    "Sweet Mary, make me clean,
    Thou rainstorm of the soul,
    Thou wine from worlds unseen."

Vachel Lindsay

We Meet At The Judgment And I Fear It Not

    Though better men may fear that trumpet's warning,
    I meet you, lady, on the Judgment morning,
    With golden hope my spirit still adorning.

    Our God who made you all so fair and sweet
    Is three times gentle, and before his feet
    Rejoicing I shall say: - "The girl you gave
    Was my first Heaven, an angel bent to save.
    Oh, God, her maker, if my ingrate breath
    Is worth this rescue from the Second Death,
    Perhaps her dear proud eyes grow gentler too
    That scorned my graceless years and trophies few.
    Gone are those years, and gone ill-deeds that turned
    Her sacred beauty from my songs that burned.
    We now as comrades through the stars may take
    The rich and arduous quests I did forsake.
    Grant me a seraph-guide to ...

Vachel Lindsay

The Beggar's Valentine

    Kiss me and comfort my heart
    Maiden honest and fine.
    I am the pilgrim boy
    Lame, but hunting the shrine;

    Fleeing away from the sweets,
    Seeking the dust and rain,
    Sworn to the staff and road,
    Scorning pleasure and pain;

    Nevertheless my mouth
    Would rest like a bird an hour
    And find in your curls a nest
    And find in your breast a bower:

    Nevertheless my eyes
    Would lose themselves in your own,
    Rivers that seek the sea,
    Angels before the throne:

    Kiss me and comfort my heart,
    For love can never be mine:
    Passion, hunger and pain,
    These are the only wine

    Of the pilgrim bound to the road.
    He would rob no man of his own.
    Yo...

Vachel Lindsay

The Vision Of Echard

The Benedictine Echard
Sat by the wayside well,
Where Marsberg sees the bridal
Of the Sarre and the Moselle.

Fair with its sloping vineyards
And tawny chestnut bloom,
The happy vale Ausonius sunk
For holy Treves made room.

On the shrine Helena builded
To keep the Christ coat well,
On minster tower and kloster cross,
The westering sunshine fell.

There, where the rock-hewn circles
Oerlooked the Romans game,
The veil of sleep fell on him,
And his thought a dream became.

He felt the heart of silence
Throb with a soundless word,
And by the inward ear alone
A spirits voice he heard.

And the spoken word seemed written
On air and wave and sod,
And the bending walls of sapphire
Blazed with the thought ...

John Greenleaf Whittier