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Poem by Vachel Lindsay


Euclid


OLD Euclid drew a circle 
On a sand-beach long ago. 
He bounded and enclosed it 
With angles thus and so. 
His set of solemn greybeards 
Nodded and argued much 
Of arc and circumference, 
Diameter and such. 
A silent child stood by them 
From morning until noon 
Because they drew such charming 
Round pictures of the moon.



Vachel Lindsay


Vachel Lindsay's other poems:
  1. Mae Marsh, Motion Picture Actress
  2. The Merciful Hand
  3. The Black Hawk War of the Artists
  4. What the Sexton Said
  5. The Eagle That is Forgotten


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