Amy Lowell

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

Frankincense And Myrrh - Poem by Amy Lowell

My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings
Vibrate most readily to minor chords,
Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words
Which voice the passion and the ache of things:
Illusions beating with their baffled wings
Against the walls of circumstance, and hoards
Of torn desires, broken joys; records
Of all a bruised life's maimed imaginings.
Now you are come! You tremble like a star
Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set.
Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb
And mute, I have no tones to answer. Far
Within I kneel before you, speechless yet,
And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.


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Read poems about / on: passion, sorrow, star, sad, beauty, sun, heart, life, joy



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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