The Cornfields

Vachel Lindsay

The cornfields rise above mankind,
Lifting white torches to the blue,
Each season not ashamed to be
Magnificently decked for you.

What right have you to call them yours,
And in brute lust of riches burn
Without some radiant penance wrought,
Some beautiful, devout return?

Next 10 Poems

• Vachel Lindsay : The Dandelion
• Vachel Lindsay : The Dangerous Little Boy Fairies
• Vachel Lindsay : The Doll Upon The Topmost Bough
• Vachel Lindsay : The Drunkard's Funeral
• Vachel Lindsay : The Drunkards In The Street
• Vachel Lindsay : The Eagle That Is Forgotten
• Vachel Lindsay : The Empty Boats
• Vachel Lindsay : The Encyclopaedia
• Vachel Lindsay : The Fairy Bridal Hymn
• Vachel Lindsay : The Firemen's Ball

Previous 10 Poems

• Vachel Lindsay : The Congo
• Vachel Lindsay : The City That Will Not Repent
• Vachel Lindsay : The Chinese Nightingale
• Vachel Lindsay : The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken
• Vachel Lindsay : The Black Hawk War Of The Artists
• Vachel Lindsay : The Beggar's Valentine
• Vachel Lindsay : The Beggar Speaks
• Vachel Lindsay : The Bankrupt Peace Maker
• Vachel Lindsay : The Angel And The Clown
• Vachel Lindsay : The Amaranth