Amy Lowell

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

Amy Lowell Poems

81. Sword Blades And Poppy Seed 4/16/2010
82. The Dinner-Party 4/16/2010
83. White And Green 4/16/2010
84. Frankincense And Myrrh 1/3/2003
85. Market Day 1/3/2003
86. Wind 4/16/2010
87. To-Morrow To Fresh Woods And Pastures New 4/16/2010
88. 1777 4/16/2010
89. The Promise Of The Morning Star 1/3/2003
90. The Allies 4/16/2010
91. To A Husband 4/16/2010
92. Irony 4/16/2010
93. Patience 4/16/2010
94. In A Garden 4/16/2010
95. Sea Shell 4/16/2010
96. Storm-Racked 4/16/2010
97. Lilacs 4/16/2010
98. The Shadow 4/16/2010
99. The Matrix 1/3/2003
100. The Fool Errant 1/3/2003
101. A Roxbury Garden 4/16/2010
102. Monadnock In Early Spring 1/3/2003
103. The Foreigner 4/16/2010
104. After Hearing A Waltz By Bartok 4/16/2010
105. The Giver Of Stars 4/16/2010
106. The Captured Goddess 4/16/2010
107. Loon Point 1/3/2003
108. Aliens 4/16/2010
109. Happiness 4/16/2010
110. Teatro Bambino. Dublin, N. H. 1/3/2003
111. March Evening 1/3/2003
112. The Bombardment 4/16/2010
113. Women's Harvest Song 1/3/2003
114. Diya 1/3/2003
115. Fragment 1/3/2003
116. Epitaph Of A Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success 4/16/2010
117. A Tulip Garden 4/16/2010
118. Anticipation 4/16/2010
119. A Petition 4/16/2010
120. A Ballad Of Footmen 4/16/2010
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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