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Vachel Lindsay - The Amaranth

Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . .
Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and yawns
And the tremendous Amaranth descends
Sweet with the glory of ten thousand dawns?

Does it not mean my God would have me say:  
"Whether you will or no, O city young, 
Heaven will bloom like one great flower for you, 
Flash and loom greatly all your marts among?"

Friends, I will not cease hoping though you weep. 
Such things I see, and some of them shall come 
Though now our streets are harsh and ashen-gray,
Though our strong youths are strident now, or dumb.
Friends, that sweet town, that wonder-town, shall rise.
Naught can delay it. Though it may not be
Just as I dream, it comes at last I know
With streets like channels of an incense-sea.


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Added: Jun 15 2005 | Viewed: 1569 times | Comments and analysis of The Amaranth by Vachel Lindsay Comments (0)

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Poet: Vachel Lindsay
Poem: The Amaranth
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