Poem by Vachel Lindsay

The Prarie Battlements

(To Edgar Lee Masters, with great respect)

HERE upon the prarie 
Is our ancestral hall. 
Agate is the dome, 
Cornelian the wall. 
Ghouls are in the cellar, 
But fays upon the stairs. 
And here lived old King Silver Dreams, 
Always at his prayers.

Here lived gray Queen Silver Dreams, 
Always signing psalms, 
And haughty Grandma Silver Dreams, 
Throned with folded palms. 
Here played cousin Alice. 
Her soul was best of all. 
And every fairy loved her, 
In our ancestral hall.

Alice has a prarie grave. 
The King and Queen lie low, 
And aged Grandma Silver Dreams, 
Four toombstones in a row. 
But still in snow and sunshine 
Stands our ancestral hall.

Agate is the dome, 
Cornelian the wall. 
And legends walk about, 
And proverbs, with proud airs. 
Ghouls are in the cellar, 
But fays upon the stairs.

1. With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses
2. What the Sexton Said
3. The Leaden-Eyed
4. The Booker Washington Trilogy
5. What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said

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