On August 25, 2008, Vachel Lindsay's poem won poem of the day on AmericanPoems.com.
I. SPEAK NOW FOR PEACE Lady of Light, and our best woman, and queen, Stand now for peace, (though anger breaks your heart), Though naught but smoke and flame and drowning is seen. Lady of Light, speak, though you speak alone, Though your voice may seem as a dove's in this howling flood, It is heard to-night by every senate and throne. Though the widening battle of millions and millions of men Threatens to-night to sweep the whole of the earth, Back of the smoke is the promise of kindness again. II. TOLSTOI IS PLOWING YET Tolstoi is plowing yet. When the smoke-clouds break, High in the sky shines a field as wide as the world. There he toils for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake. Ah, he is taller than clouds of the little earth. Only the congress of planets is over him, And the arching path where new sweet stars have birth. Wearing his peasant dress, his head bent low, Tolstoi, that angel of Peace, is plowing yet; Forward, across the field, his horses go.
I thought the tone was beautiful in a sense that brings about a sense of freshness to Jane Addams Legacy. I am no poet so I do no think I would can provide accurate commentary on this poem besides commending its beauty.
Sorry class and professor Urrea, I don't know why my post is cut off this way. I am investigating now. Please bare with me.
ReplyDeleteI. SPEAK NOW FOR PEACE
ReplyDeleteLady of Light, and our best woman, and queen,
Stand now for peace, (though anger breaks your heart),
Though naught but smoke and flame and drowning is seen.
Lady of Light, speak, though you speak alone,
Though your voice may seem as a dove's in this howling flood,
It is heard to-night by every senate and throne.
Though the widening battle of millions and millions of men
Threatens to-night to sweep the whole of the earth,
Back of the smoke is the promise of kindness again.
II. TOLSTOI IS PLOWING YET
Tolstoi is plowing yet. When the smoke-clouds break,
High in the sky shines a field as wide as the world.
There he toils for the Kingdom of Heaven's sake.
Ah, he is taller than clouds of the little earth.
Only the congress of planets is over him,
And the arching path where new sweet stars have birth.
Wearing his peasant dress, his head bent low,
Tolstoi, that angel of Peace, is plowing yet;
Forward, across the field, his horses go.
Here is the poem in its entirety. Sorry
Nice work. Exactly the kind of thing I'm looking for. Starnge how the cyber world gets funky on us and messes up our best laid plans! Are you going to submit this anywhere? Publish!
ReplyDelete