Poems by Amy Lowell
Afternoon Rain in State Street
... To rest my brain with the suffusing, round brilliance of its globe ...
A London Thoroughfare. 2 A.M
... With the silver-barred street in the midst, ...
Aubade
... I should see that in my hands glittered a gem beyond counting ...
Reaping
... Do lay quiet, I know I'm slow, but it's harder to say 'n I thought ...
The Pleiades
... But when night comes it is quite plain, ...
The Pike
... And the blurred reflections of the willows on the opposite bank ...
The Great Adventure of Max Breuck
... His youth Had taught their meaning, now they closed upon his dream ...
The Basket
... stitched with so much artistry, they seemed like spun and woven gems, or flower-buds ...
To Elizabeth Ward Perkins
... Topaz, and green, where light falls through ...
Sunshine through a Cobwebbed Window
... And Noah's ark stuck on Ararat, when all the world had sunk ...
The Boston Athenaeum
... Grapes do not come of thorns nor figs of thistles, ...
Stravinsky's Three Pieces
... Third Movement An organ growls in the heavy roof-groins of a church, ...
Fringed Gentians
... Roses, and pinks, and four o'clocks ...
Malmaison
... and windings, over there, over there, sliding through the green countryside! Like ...
The Tree of Scarlet Berries
... But, in the mist, I only scratch my hand on the thorns ...
