Amy Lowell Poems on Poetry (6 Poems)

La Ronde Du Diable (Amy Lowell Poems)

Here we go round the ivy-bush, And that’s a tune we all dance to. Little poet people snatching ivy, Trying to prevent one another from snatching ivy. If you get a leaf, there’s another for me; Look at the bush. … Continue reading →

Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)

I How fresh the Dartle’s little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round clouds, blown away, Let drop the yellow sunshine to gleam through And tip the edges of the waves with shifts … Continue reading →

The Great Adventure of Max Breuck (Amy Lowell Poem)

1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of bright gold across a sheet Of calm and liquid moonshine. From inside Come shouts and streams of laughter, and a … Continue reading →

The Promise of the Morning Star (Amy Lowell Poem)

Thou father of the children of my brain By thee engendered in my willing heart, How can I thank thee for this gift of art Poured out so lavishly, and not in vain. What thou created never more can die, … Continue reading →

Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (Amy Lowell Poem)

A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran and hid among the staves Of an old wharf. A watery light Touched bleak the granite bridge, and white Without … Continue reading →

Fragment (Amy Lowell Poem)

What is poetry? Is it a mosaic Of coloured stones which curiously are wrought Into a pattern? Rather glass that’s taught By patient labor any hue to take And glowing with a sumptuous splendor, make Beauty a thing of awe; … Continue reading →