Baptized by smoke and fire, Taller than tower or steeple, Greetings, immortal Vladimir, Archangel of the people. He the horse and the driver, He the fact and the story, A shout, a spray of saliva: "Make way for my dray-horse glory!" He sits down where the mews is, Squaring his whopping shoulders. No diamonds for him! He chooses Cobbles -- the biggest! Boulders! Greetings, thunder of streets! He yawns, he yells, he swings His bludgeon again, and beats His whooping Archangel wings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LETTER TO HER HUSBAND, ABSENT UPON PUBLIC EMPLOYMENT by ANNE BRADSTREET FIVE EYES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE SONNET (ON AN OLD BOOK WITH UNCUT LEAVES) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR BARNEY'S INVITATION by PHILIP FRENEAU HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 82. HOARDED JOY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |