Best Poem of Vachel Lindsay

The Voyage
What is my mast ? A pen.
What are my sails ? Ten crescent moons.
What is my sea? A bottle of ink.
Where do I go? To heaven again.
What do I eat ? The amaranth flower,
While the winds through the jungles think old tunes.
I eat that flower with ivory spoons
While the winds through the jungles play old . . .
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The Strength Of The Lonely
(What the Mendicant Said )


The moon's a monk, unmated,
Who walks his cell, the sky.
His strength is that of heaven-vowed men
Who all life's flames defy.

They turn to stars or shadows,
They go like snow or dew—
Leaving behind no sorrow—
Only the arching blue. . . .
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