WIST

The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over the harbor and city
on silent haunches, and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Fog” (1914)

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work -
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Grass” (1918)

I am the people – the mob – the crowd – the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“I Am the People, the Mob” (1916)

I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.
 

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Prairie” (1918)

Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Let me pry loose old walls.
Let me lift and loosen old foundations.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Prayers of Steel” (1920)

Look out how you use proud words.
When you let proud words go, it is not easy to call them back.
They wear long boots, hard boots.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Primer Lessons” (1922)

The republic is a dream.
Nothing happens unless first a dream.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
“Washington Monument by Night” (1922)

Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they will have it when the next test comes.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
(Attributed)

A baby is God’s opinion that life should go on.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Remembrance Rock, ch. 2 (1948)

A baby is God’s opinion that life should go on.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Remembrance Rock, ch. 2 (1948)

If she [America] forgets where she came from, if the people lose sight of what brought them along, if she listens to the deniers and mockers, then will begin the rot and dissolution.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Remembrance Rock, epilogue, ch. 2 (1948)

Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967) American poet, biographer
Address to Congress on 150th Anniversary of Lincoln’s birth (12 Feb 1959)

Quoted in Congressional Record, vol. 105, p. 2265.