Poems by Amy Lowell

Within the gold square of the proscenium arch,
A curtain of orange velvet hangs in stiff folds,...

There was a man
Who made his living
By painting roses
Upon silk. He sat in an upper cha...

Be patient with you?
When the stooping sky
Leans down upon the hills
And tenderly, as one who...

I walk down the garden paths,
And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills....

Life is a stream
On which we strew
Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
The end lost in dr...

I pray to be the tool which to your hand
Long use has shaped and moulded till it b...

I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day!
A steely silver, underlined with blue,
And f...

All night I wrestled with a memory
Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought.
The crumble...

You came to me bearing bright roses,
Red like the wine of your heart;
You twisted them into a...

Spread on the roadway,
With open-blown jackets,
Like black, soaring pinions,
They swoop do...

Fish "So..." they said,
With their wine-glasses delicately poised,
Mocking at the thing they...

Look, Dear, how bright the moonlight is to-night!
See where it casts the shadow of that tree
...

I do not care to talk to you although
Your speech evokes a thousand sympathies,
And all my bei...

Throughout the echoing chambers of my brain
I hear your words in mournful cadence toll
Like som...

GEORGE AUGUSTUS CLOUGH
A NATIVE OF LIVERPOOL,
DIED SUDDENLY OF "STRANGER'S FEVER"
NOV'R 5th 1...