The Twilight of the Sioux Quotes
The Twilight of the Sioux
by
John G. Neihardt31 ratings, 4.19 average rating, 6 reviews
The Twilight of the Sioux Quotes
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“Death became afraid
Before the dancing people so arrayed
In vision of the deathless. Hundreds burned
With holiness”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
Before the dancing people so arrayed
In vision of the deathless. Hundreds burned
With holiness”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
“How can I know that I know anything?
The coming of the grasses in the spring-
Is it not strange so wonderful a tale
Is really true? Did mornings ever fail,
Or sleeping Earth forget the time to grow?
How do the generations come and go?
They are, and are not. I am half afraid
To think of what strange wonders all is made!
And shall I doubt another if I see?”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
The coming of the grasses in the spring-
Is it not strange so wonderful a tale
Is really true? Did mornings ever fail,
Or sleeping Earth forget the time to grow?
How do the generations come and go?
They are, and are not. I am half afraid
To think of what strange wonders all is made!
And shall I doubt another if I see?”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
“Is there any land
So far and strange it cannot understand
The drumming thunder and the singing rain?
And then he came- he came!”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
So far and strange it cannot understand
The drumming thunder and the singing rain?
And then he came- he came!”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
“Sullenly a gale
That blustered rainless up the Bozeman Trail
Was brining June again ; but not the dear
Deep-bosomed mother of a hemisphere
That other regions cherish. Flat of breast,
More passionate than loving up the West
A stern June strode, lean suckler of the lean,
Her rag-and-tatter robe of faded green
Blown dustily about her.”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
That blustered rainless up the Bozeman Trail
Was brining June again ; but not the dear
Deep-bosomed mother of a hemisphere
That other regions cherish. Flat of breast,
More passionate than loving up the West
A stern June strode, lean suckler of the lean,
Her rag-and-tatter robe of faded green
Blown dustily about her.”
― The Twilight of the Sioux
