The Lamp of Life (Amy Lowell Poem)
Always we are following a light, Always the light recedes; with groping hands We stretch toward this glory, while the ...
Amy Lowell Poems (204 Poems)
Apples of Hesperides (Amy Lowell Poem)
Glinting golden through the trees, Apples of Hesperides! Through the moon-pierced warp of night Shoot pale shafts of yellow light, ...
A Lady (Amy Lowell Poem)
You are beautiful and faded Like an old opera tune Played upon a harpsichord; Or like the sun-flooded silks Of ...
The Foreigner (Amy Lowell Poem)
Have at you, you Devils! My back's to this tree, For you're nothing so nice That the hind-side of me ...
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 ...
“To-morrow to Fresh Woods and Pastures New” (Amy Lowell Poem)
As for a moment he stands, in hardy masculine beauty, Poised on the fircrested rock, over the pool which below ...
The Matrix (Amy Lowell Poem)
Goaded and harassed in the factory That tears our life up into bits of days Ticked off upon a clock ...
The Temple (Amy Lowell Poem)
Between us leapt a gold and scarlet flame. Into the hollow of the cupped, arched blue Of Heaven it rose. ...
The Green Bowl (Amy Lowell Poem)
This little bowl is like a mossy pool In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow Nodding in chequered sunshine ...
An Aquarium (Amy Lowell Poem)
Streaks of green and yellow iridescence, Silver shiftings, Rings veering out of rings, Silver -- gold -- Grey-green opaqueness sliding ...
A Roxbury Garden (Amy Lowell Poem)
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
The Little Garden (Amy Lowell Poem)
A little garden on a bleak hillside Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow Lies far into the spring. The ...
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 ...
Leisure (Amy Lowell Poem)
Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone age, When hours were long and days sufficed to hold Wide-eyed delights and pleasures ...
Hero-Worship (Amy Lowell Poem)
A face seen passing in a crowded street, A voice heard singing music, large and free; And from that moment ...
A Japanese Wood-Carving (Amy Lowell Poem)
High up above the open, welcoming door It hangs, a piece of wood with colours dim. Once, long ago, it ...
A Blockhead (Amy Lowell Poem)
Before me lies a mass of shapeless days, Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Sifted ...
Vintage (Amy Lowell Poem)
I will mix me a drink of stars, -- Large stars with polychrome needles, Small stars jetting maroon and crimson, ...
Apology (Amy Lowell Poem)
Be not angry with me that I bear Your colours everywhere, All through each crowded street, And meet The wonder-light ...
A Tulip Garden (Amy Lowell Poem)
Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry Wheels ...
Spring Day (Amy Lowell Poem)
Bath The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The ...
The End (Amy Lowell Poem)
Throughout the echoing chambers of my brain I hear your words in mournful cadence toll Like some slow passing-bell which ...
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 ...
At Night (Amy Lowell Poem)
The wind is singing through the trees to-night, A deep-voiced song of rushing cadences And crashing intervals. No summer breeze ...
Music (Amy Lowell Poem)
The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute. From my bed I can hear him, And the round ...
Listening (Amy Lowell Poem)
'T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets ...
The Fruit Shop (Amy Lowell Poem)
Cross-ribboned shoes; a muslin gown, High-waisted, girdled with bright blue; A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown She pluckered ...
Venetian Glass (Amy Lowell Poem)
As one who sails upon a wide, blue sea Far out of sight of land, his mind intent Upon the ...
The Allies (Amy Lowell Poem)
August 14th, 1914 Into the brazen, burnished sky, the cry hurls itself. The zigzagging cry of hoarse throats, it floats ...
Wind (Amy Lowell Poem)
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea, He steals the down from the honeybee, He makes the ...