Poems by Amy Lowell
Loon Point
... Through the water the moon writes her legends ...
The Fruit Garden Path
... The path runs straight between the flowering rows, ...
The Dinner-Party
... But my weapon slithered over his polished surface, ...
In Answer to a Request
... Ah, my Dear, Can clocks tick back to yesterday at noon ...
Late September
... How that pine tree shouts and lurches! ...
In a Castle
... the coronet, and her eyes are full and wet with love, and when she holds out ...
Number 3 on the Docket
... But his very first position ther was an explosion in the mine ...
The Cremona Violin
... Hard to say That though they could not meet (he saw her wince) ...
Fool's Money Bags
... A pale wind licks along the stone slabs, ...
Absence
... Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight ...
A Tale of Starvation
... He cursed at those he bought of, and swore at those he sold to, ...
Diya {original title is Greek, Delta-iota-psi-alpha}
... Come, close; When you are in the circle of my arm ...
The Paper Windmill
... crowing for." But the little boy did not hear him, he was sobbing over the crumpled ...
Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
... Of one who died of growing pains ...
Aftermath
... Still pass, and still I scatter flowers frail, ...
