Author Vachel Lindsay 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 ā We prayed not, yet she brought to us The misty wine of God. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments