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...MOTHER AND POET; TURIN, AFTER THE NEWS FROM GAETA, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON JILTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR NO COMING TO GOD WITHOUT CHRIST by ROBERT HERRICK |