An Explanation of the Grasshopper

The Grasshopper, the grasshopper,
I will explain to you: -
He is the Brownies' racehorse,
The fairies' Kangaroo.

Vachel Lindsay

Vachel Lindsay was an American poet known for his innovative performances of his poetry, which combined spoken word with music and theatrics. Born in Springfield, Illinois, Lindsay's work often revolved around American history and culture, reflecting his progressive social views. He played a significant role in the early 20th-century American poetry scene, influencing contemporaries and later poets with his dynamic style and passionate delivery.

Vachel Lindsay

Mae Marsh, Motion Picture Actress

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Written for a Musician

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

Star of My Heart

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

The Illinois Village

Vachel Lindsay, Simple Poetry

English

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Popcorn, Glass Balls, and Cranberries (As it were)

        I. The Lion


    The Lion is a kingly beast.
    He likes a Hindu for a feast.
    And if no Hindu he can get,
    The lion-family is upset.

    He cuffs his wife and bites her ears
    Till she is nearly moved to tears.
    Then some explorer finds the den
    And all is family peace again.



        II.    An Explanation of the Grasshopper


    The Grasshopper, the grasshopper,
    I will explain to you: -
    He is the Brownies' racehorse,
    The fairies' Kangaroo.



        III.    The Dangerous Little Boy Fairies


    In fairyland the little boys
    Would rather fight than eat their meals.
    They like to chase a gauze-winged fly
    And catch and beat him till he ...

Vachel Lindsay

The Grasshopper And The Ant.[1]

    A Grasshopper gay
    Sang the summer away,
    And found herself poor
    By the winter's first roar.
    Of meat or of bread,
    Not a morsel she had!
    So a begging she went,
    To her neighbour the ant,
        For the loan of some wheat,
        Which would serve her to eat,
    Till the season came round.
        'I will pay you,' she saith,
        'On an animal's faith,
    Double weight in the pound
    Ere the harvest be bound.'
        The ant is a friend
        (And here she might mend)
        Little given to lend.
    'How spent you the summer?'
        Quoth she, looking shame
        At the borrowing dame.
    'Night and day to each comer
        I sang, if you please.'
        'You sang! I'm at ease;...

Jean de La Fontaine

Grasshoppers

Grasshoppers go in many a thumming spring
And now to stalks of tasseled sow-grass cling,
That shakes and swees awhile, but still keeps straight;
While arching oxeye doubles with his weight.
Next on the cat-tail-grass with farther bound
He springs, that bends until they touch the ground.

John Clare

Fairies

There's a little fairy who
Peeps from every drop of dew:
You can see him wink and shine
On the morning-glory vine,
Mischief in his eye of blue.
There's another fairy that
Rides upon the smallest gnat:
You can hear him tremolo
When the summer dusk falls slow,
Circling just above your hat.
And another one that sways
In the golden slanted rays
Of the sunlight where it floats:
Prosy people call them motes,
But they're fairies, father says.
But there's one that no one sees,
Only, maybe, moths and bees;
Who in lofts, where knot-holes are,
On the thin light of a star
Slides through crannied crevices.
You may hear him sigh and sing
Near a May-fly's captured wing
In a spider-web close by:
See him with a moonbeam pry
Moonflowers o...

Madison Julius Cawein

The Grasshopper

The grasshopper, that sang its sleepy song
All summer long,
The orchard lands and harvest fields among,
Taking no heed of aught save its own joy,
Without alloy,
Cheering the ear with its "Ahoy! ahoy!"
A merry note of summer's self a part,
Like my old heart,
Is silent now and cold; its singing done.
The grasshopper's a-cold and summer's gone,
And I'm alone.

Madison Julius Cawein

The Old Horse in the City

    The moon's a peck of corn.    It lies
    Heaped up for me to eat.
    I wish that I might climb the path
    And taste that supper sweet.

    Men feed me straw and scanty grain
    And beat me till I'm sore.
    Some day I'll break the halter-rope
    And smash the stable-door,

    Run down the street and mount the hill
    Just as the corn appears.
    I've seen it rise at certain times
    For years and years and years.

Vachel Lindsay