Amy Lowell

(9 February 1874 – 12 May 1925 / Boston, Massachusetts)

Amy Lowell Poems

41. Crowned 1/3/2003
42. Decade 1/3/2003
43. Diya 1/3/2003
44. Dreams 1/3/2003
45. Epitaph In A Church-Yard In Charleston, South Carolina 1/3/2003
46. Epitaph Of A Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success 4/16/2010
47. Falling Snow 1/3/2003
48. Fatigue 1/3/2003
49. Flute-Priest Song For Rain 4/16/2010
50. Fool's Money Bags 4/16/2010
51. Fragment 1/3/2003
52. Francis Ii, King Of Naples 1/3/2003
53. Frankincense And Myrrh 1/3/2003
54. Free Fantasia On Japanese Themes 4/16/2010
55. Fringed Gentians 1/3/2003
56. From One Who Stays 1/3/2003
57. Generations 1/3/2003
58. Grotesque 4/16/2010
59. Happiness 4/16/2010
60. Haunted 4/16/2010
61. Hero-Worship 1/3/2003
62. Hoar-Frost 1/3/2003
63. Hora Stellatrix 1/3/2003
64. In A Castle 4/16/2010
65. In A Garden 4/16/2010
66. In A Time Of Dearth 4/16/2010
67. In Answer To A Request 4/16/2010
68. In Darkness 1/3/2003
69. In Excelsis 1/3/2003
70. Interlude 1/3/2003
71. Irony 4/16/2010
72. J--K. Huysmans 1/3/2003
73. La Vie De Boheme 4/16/2010
74. Late September 4/16/2010
75. Lead Soldiers 4/16/2010
76. Leisure 1/3/2003
77. Lilacs 4/16/2010
78. Listening 1/3/2003
79. Loon Point 1/3/2003
80. Madonna Of The Evening Flowers 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Amy Lowell

Patterns

I walk down the garden-paths,
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair and jeweled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern. As I wander down
The garden-paths.
My dress is richly figured,
And the train
Makes a pink and silver stain
On the gravel, and the thrift
Of the borders.
Just a plate of current fashion,
Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes.
Not a softness anywhere about me,
Only whalebone and brocade.
And I sink ...

Read the full of Patterns

Loon Point

Softly the water ripples
Against the canoe's curving side,
Softly the birch trees rustle
Flinging over us branches wide.

Softly the moon glints and glistens
As the water takes and leaves,
Like golden ears of corn
Which fall from loose-bound sheaves,

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