The golden whales of California, and other rhymes in the American languageLindsay, Vachel
General
The golden whales of California, and other rhymes in the American language
Lindsay, Vachel
American poetry -- 20th century
He shouted one great loud “_Good night_,” and laughed,
And skipped home.
And every star was winking in the wide wicked dome.
And early in the morning, sweet Polly stole away.
And though the town went crazy, she is his wife today.
THE APPLE BLOSSOM SNOW BLUES
_A “blues” is a song in the mood of Milton’s Il Penseroso, or
a paragraph from Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy. This present
production is the chronicle of the secret soul of a vaudeville
man, as he dances in the limelight with his haughty lady. Let
the reader take special pains to make his own tune for this
production, to a very delicate drum beat._
“_Your_
Dandelion beauty,
_Your_
Cherry-blossom beauty,
_Your_
Apple-blossom beauty,
I will dance as I can,
O
You rag time lady,
O
You jazz dancing lady,
O
You blues-singing lady,”
_Thinks_ the blues-singing man.
“Your
Grace and slightness,
And your fragrant whiteness,
Make me see the bending
Of an apple-blossom bough.
_You_
Are a fairy,
Yet a jump-jazz dancer,
And your heart
Is a robin,
Singing, making merry
With the apple-flowers now.”
See him kneel and canter
And smirk and banter,
And essay her heart
While the gourd horns blow.
For he is her lover
_And_
Her dancing partner,
In the blues he made
Called “The Apple Blossom Snow.”
She does her duty
No more
Than her duty,
Yet the packed house cheers
To the gallery rim.
Her young scorn fires them,
Its pep inspires them,
They watch her lover
And envy him.
He does not fathom
What her heart has in keeping
Till that last circus leaping
Takes all by surprise.
Then he catches her softly,
Saves her gently,
And a mood for his soul
Lights her pansy eyes.
Then
She steps rare measures.
Her eyes are treasures.
Brave truth shines out
From her young-witch glance.
From the velvety shade,
Ah, the thoughts of the maid.
Relenting glory,
Unveiled by chance.
Though soon thereafter
She hides in laughter,
And flouts all his loving,
He will dance as he can,
As he can,
Like a man,
With his jazz dancing wonder,
With his pansy blossom wonder,
With his apple blossom wonder,
With his rag time lady,
The
Rag
Time
Man.
[Sidenote: _Grand finale of jazz music, like the fall of a pile of
dishes in the kitchen._]
THE DANIEL JAZZ
_Let the leader train the audience to roar like lions, and to
join in the refrain “Go chain the lions down,” before he begins
to lead them in this jazz._
[Sidenote: _Beginning with a strain of “Dixie.”_]
Darius the Mede was a king and a wonder.
His eye was proud, and his voice was thunder.
He kept bad lions in a monstrous den.
He fed up the lions on Christian men.
[Sidenote: _With a touch of “Alexander’s Ragtime Band.”_]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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