The Precinct. Rochester (Amy Lowell Poem)
The tall yellow hollyhocks stand, Still and straight, With their round blossoms spread open, In the quiet sunshine. And still ...
Amy Lowell Poems on Thought & Thinking (16 Poems)
Off the Turnpike (Amy Lowell Poem)
Good ev'nin', Mis' Priest. I jest stepped in to tell you Good-bye. Yes, it's all over. All my things is ...
Crepuscule du Matin (Amy Lowell Poem)
All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years ...
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 ...
The Red Lacquer Music-Stand (Amy Lowell Poem)
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
The Boston Athenaeum (Amy Lowell Poem)
Thou dear and well-loved haunt of happy hours, How often in some distant gallery, Gained by a little painful spiral ...
Malmaison (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
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 ...
Reaping (Amy Lowell Poem)
You want to know what's the matter with me, do yer? My! ain't men blinder'n moles? It ain't nothin' new, ...
The Bombardment (Amy Lowell Poem)
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
The Cremona Violin (Amy Lowell Poem)
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
The Fool Errant (Amy Lowell Poem)
The Fool Errant sat by the highway of life And his gaze wandered up and his gaze wandered down, A ...
Loon Point (Amy Lowell Poem)
Softly the water ripples Against the canoe's curving side, Softly the birch trees rustle Flinging over us branches wide. Softly ...
The Shadow (Amy Lowell Poem)
Paul Jannes was working very late, For this watch must be done by eight To-morrow or the Cardinal Would certainly ...
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 ...
Lead Soldiers (Amy Lowell Poem)
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...