Poem by Vachel Lindsay

Epilogue

UNDER THE BLESSING OF YOUR PSYCHE WINGS

Though I have found you llke a snow-drop pale, 
On sunny days have found you weak and still,
Though I have often held your girlish head
Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:—

Under the blessing of your Psyche-wings
I hide to-night like one small broken bird,
So soothed. I half-forget the world gone mad:—
And all the winds of war are now unheard.

My heaven-doubting pennons feel your hands
With touch most delicate so circling round,
That for an hour I dream that God is good.
And in your shadow, Mercy’s ways abound.

I thought myself the guard of your frail state,
And yet I come to-night a helpless guest,
Hiding beneath your giant Psyche-wings,
Against the pallor of your wondrous breast.

1. To the United States Senate
2. To Reformers in Despair
3. The Perfect Marriage
4. On the Building of Springfield
5. Upon Returning to the Country Road

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