The Poetry of Lindsay by Vachel Lindsay
"The Poetry of Lindsay" refers to the body of work created by American poet Vachel Lindsay, known for his unique rhythmic style and experimental approach to poetry. While no complete collection of his poetry has been published, selected works and anthologies capture his contributions as a significant yet minor poet of the early 20th century. Lindsay's poetry ranges from deeply personal reflections to celebratory tributes of historical figures, such as Abraham Lincoln and William Booth. Notable poems include "General William Booth Enters into Heaven," which showcases his ability to blend reverence with a rhythmic, almost musical quality, and "The Congo," which is characterized by its syncopated lines and vivid imagery.
Lindsay also ventured into children's poetry, creating whimsical and engaging works that continue to resonate with young audiences. His poetic style often incorporates sound and performance elements, suggesting that his pieces are best experienced aloud. Despite a decline in popularity after his death, Lindsay's work remains a fascinating exploration of poetic form and cultural themes, reflecting both his artistic aspirations and personal struggles. Readers interested in American poetry or the evolution of poetic expression may find Lindsay's unique contributions worth exploring.
On this Page
Subject Terms
The Poetry of Lindsay by Vachel Lindsay
First published:General William Booth Enters into Heaven, 1913; The Congo and Other Poems, 1914; The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems, 1917; The Golden Whales of California and Other Rhymes in the American Language, 1920; Going-to-the-Sun, 1923; Going-to-the-Stars, 1926; The Candle in the Cabin, 1926; Johnny Appleseed and Other Poems, 1928; Every Soul Is a Circus, 1929
Type of work: Poetry
Critical Evaluation:
No complete collection of Vachel Lindsay’s poetry has ever been published, nor does it seem likely that this would be a profitable venture for publisher, reader, or scholar. The vogue for this poet died out even before his death; the excellent collections of selected poetry and anthologies contain all that is likely to survive; and a consensus among scholars has already been established—Lindsay was a vital minor poet whose interesting experiments and some fifty poems will be remembered.
Setting aside his earliest poems, including the famous “Rhymes to be Traded for Bread,” and his late ones, excluding “Johnny Appleseed,” the critical reader will find a corpus of poetry which, if no longer startling, is at least substantial. These first collections sometimes include sketches which do not illuminate and poems without substance; they were a part of the poet’s years when he considered himself a traveling mystic, an artist-writer with a rather vague creed based loosely on Swedenborgian philosophy. His later years before his suicide were clouded over by a despondency which the poems reflect.
In January, 1913, Poetry: A Magazine of Verse published “General William Booth Enters into Heaven,” published in book form later that year along with other poems by the same author. The immediate—and lasting—popularity of this poem is justified, perhaps more so than that of the familiarly anthologized “The Congo.” With cues for instruments and singing, the writer’s very real tribute to the religious leader is a studied cacophony which ends in deep reverence:
And when Booth halted by the curb for
Here is Lindsay’s metier, the rhythmic portrayal of almost legendary persons: Lincoln, Bryan, Chapman, Altgeld, Sullivan, Jackson, and Alexander Campbell, the founder of his religious sect, among others. In these poems he created a new kind of poetic tribute, as unlike the usual versifying obituary as his own life was from those he celebrated.
Less successful, though even more popular on chautauqua and college platforms where he appeared for so many years in so many cities, are the “travel” poems, the sweeping Whitmanesque vistas of the Santa Fe Trail, the Congo, the Great Plains. Here, too, his poetry has its strongly personal and syncopated quality, a stress here and a manipulation there, which stamps it with a form no longer usable because, perhaps, he himself overused it. “The Congo” begins:
Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
This is the four-stress line, with a kind of added syncopation which one critic has called “star-spangled jazz.” Poems of this type are most effective when read aloud in keeping with the instructions Lindsay supplied in a marginal gloss.
A third category, and in some ways the most successful because the poems seem so artless, is that of “children’s” poetry—the kind which is enchanting to all, the large child reading and the small one listening. “The Chinese Nightingale,” although sullied by adult overtones, is the best known of this group with its chiming, clanging pigeon-Chinese symbols:
He lit a joss stick long and black.
A group of poems on all kinds of mice still delights youngsters when they are reprinted in children’s anthologies. These little poems are more of a delight than those which Lindsay thought would charm children.
On the other hand, his exploitation of sounds always pleases, as in “The Kallyope Yell”:
Music of the mob am I,
or the second part of “The Santa Fe Trail”:
Listen to the iron-horns, ripping, rack-
The first echoes calliope dissonances, the latter, the klaxon racket.
From his last volume, EVERY SOUL IS A CIRCUS, comes what Lindsay thought was a tribute to P. T. Barnum, but which was really, as the opening lines reveal, an apology for his own works:
My brothers of the poet-trade,
The Art Institute is the place where Lindsay started his career; like Barnum, he ended in the tent. Both brought thrilling moments, Barnum his Lind, Lindsay his Salvation Army hero-leader. A note from the poet suggests this poem is to read “with bardic and troubadour chanting,” and Lindsay’s postlude might well grace his epitaph:
So, come, let us be bold with our songs,