Amy Lowell

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

Amy Lowell Poems

161. Venus Transiens 1/3/2003
162. Before Dawn 1/3/2003
163. In Darkness 1/3/2003
164. In Excelsis 1/3/2003
165. From One Who Stays 1/3/2003
166. Listening 1/3/2003
167. Hero-Worship 1/3/2003
168. Autumn 1/3/2003
169. A Gift 4/16/2010
170. Absence 4/16/2010
171. The Little Garden 1/3/2003
172. Leisure 1/3/2003
173. Interlude 1/3/2003
174. The Lamp Of Life 1/3/2003
175. The Garden By Moonlight 1/3/2003
176. Behind A Wall 1/3/2003
177. New York At Night 1/3/2003
178. Petals 1/3/2003
179. The Taxi 1/3/2003
180. The End 1/3/2003
181. A Fixed Idea 1/3/2003
182. At Night 1/3/2003
183. Opal 1/13/2003
184. Astigmatism 1/20/2003
185. Aubade 1/3/2003
186. Apples Of Hesperides 1/3/2003
187. Decade 1/3/2003
188. Dreams 1/3/2003
189. The Wind 1/3/2003
190. A London Thoroughfare. 2 A.M. 1/20/2003
191. A Winter Ride 1/3/2003
192. The Letter 1/13/2003
193. To A Friend 1/3/2003
194. Apology 1/4/2003
195. A Japanese Wood-Carving 1/3/2003
196. A Fairy Tale 1/3/2003
197. Aftermath 1/3/2003
198. A Lady 1/4/2003
199. A Little Song 1/3/2003
200. Patterns 1/3/2003

Comments about Amy Lowell

  • Priti (8/7/2018 12:52:00 PM)

    I like this poem very much .i like

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  • Deepanshu zinder (6/19/2018 11:07:00 PM)

    😍😍😍

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

Apology

Be not angry with me that I bear
   Your colours everywhere,
   All through each crowded street,
   And meet
   The wonder-light in every eye,
   As I go by.

Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze,
   Blinded by rainbow haze,

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