Poems by Carl Sandburg

Poems by Carl Sandburg

Monotone, by Carl Sandburg

    The monotone of the rain is beautiful,And the sudden rise and slow relapseOf the long multitu...

Pool, by Carl Sandburg

Out of the fireCame a man sunkenTo less than cinders,A tea-cup of ashes or so.And I, The gold in ...

Bones, by Carl Sandburg

Sling me under the sea.Pack me down in the salt and wet.No farmer’s plow shall touch my bones.No ...

Poems Done on a Late Night Car, by Carl Sandburg


I am The Great White Way of the city:
When you ask what is my desire, I answer:

Grass, by Carl Sandburg

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—

Four Preludes on Playthings of the Wind, by Carl Sandburg

The past is a bucket of ashes.


The woman named Tomorrow
sits with a hairpin in her teeth

Caboose Thoughts, by Carl Sandburg

It's going to come out all right—do you know?
The sun, the birds, the grass—they know.
They get a...

Loam, by Carl Sandburg

In the loam we sleep,
In the cool moist loam,
To the lull of years that pass
And the break of sta...

Languages, by Carl Sandburg

There are no handles upon a language
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its...

In a Breath, by Carl Sandburg

     To the Williamson BrothersHigh noon. White sun flashes on the Michigan Avenue asphalt. Drum ...

Back Yard, by Carl Sandburg

Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,
All silver under y...

Theme in Yellow, by Carl Sandburg

I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny ...

Follies, by Carl Sandburg

The blossoms of lilac,
And shattered,
The atoms of purple.
Green dip the leaves, ...

How Much?, by Carl Sandburg

How much do you love me, a million bushels?
Oh, a lot more than that, Oh, a lot more.


Autumn Movement, by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow i...