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General William Booth Enters into Heaven

by Vachel Lindsay

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Sweethearts of the Year

Sweetheart Spring

Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly,
  Her gliding hands were fire,
  Her lilac breath upon our cheeks
  Consumed us with desire.

By her our God began to build,
  Began to sow and till.
  He laid foundations in our loves
  For every good and ill.
  We asked Him not for blessing,
  We asked Him not for pain—
  Still, to the just and unjust
  He sent His fire and rain.

Sweetheart Summer

We prayed not, yet she came to us,
  The silken, shining one,
  On Jacob’s noble ladder
  Descended from the sun.
  She reached our town of Every Day,
  Our dry and dusty sod—
  We prayed not, yet she brought to us
  The misty wine of God.

Sweetheart Autumn

The woods were black and crimson,
  The frost-bit flowers were dead,
  But Sweetheart Indian Summer came
  With love-winds round her head.
  While fruits God-given and splendid
  Belonged to her domain:
  Baskets of corn in perfect ear
  And grapes with purple stain,
  The treacherous winds persuaded her
  Spring Love was in the wood
  Altho’ the end of love was hers—
  Fruition, Motherhood.

Sweetheart Winter

We had done naught of service
  To win our Maker’s praise.
  Yet Sweetheart Winter came to us
  To gild our waning days.
  Down Jacob’s winding ladder
  She came from Sunshine Town,
  Bearing the sparkling mornings
  And clouds of silver-brown;
  Bearing the seeds of Springtime.
  Upon her snowy seas
  Bearing the fairy star-flowers
  For baby Christmas trees.

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