Poem by Vachel Lindsay

To Reformers in Despair

’Tis not too late to build our young land right, 
Cleaner than Holland, courtlier than Japan, 
Devout like early Rome, with hearths like hers, 
Hearths that will recreate the breed called man.

1. The Haughty Snail-King
2. A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People
3. The Potatoes’ Dance
4. Sweet Briars of the Stairways
5. The Light o’ the Moon

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