Vachel Lindsay (Вэчел Линдсей)

How a Little Girl Sang

Ah, she was music in herself, 
A symphony of joyousness. 
She sang, she sang from finger tips, 
From every tremble of her dress. 
I saw sweet haunting harmony, 
An ecstasy, an ecstasy, 
In that strange curling of her lips, 
That happy curling of her lips. 
And quivering with melody 
Those eyes I saw, that tossing head. 

And so I saw what music was, 
Tho’ still accursed with ears of lead.

1. The Merciful Hand
2. When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich
3. The King of Yellow Butterflies
4. Above the Battle’s Front
5. What the Moon Saw

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