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Poem by Vachel Lindsay The Haughty Snail-King Twelve snails went walking after night. They’d creep an inch or so, Then stop and bug their eyes And blow. Some folks . . . are . . . deadly . . . slow. Twelve snails went walking yestereve, Led by their fat old king. They were so dull their princeling had No sceptre, robe or ring— Only a paper cap to wear When nightly journeying. This king-snail said: ”I feel a thought Within. . . . It blossoms soon. . . . O little courtiers of mine, . . . I crave a pretty boo. . . . Oh, yes . . . (High thoughts with effort come And well-bred snails are ALMOST dumb.) ”I wish I had a yellow crown As glistering . . . as . . . the moon.” Vachel Lindsay Vachel Lindsay's other poems:
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