When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness. — Amy Lowell Love Copy Share Image
On the neck of the young man sparkles no gem so gracious as enterprise. Youth condemns; maturity condones. — Amy Lowell Aging Copy Share Image
I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed. — Amy Lowell Fashion Copy Share Image
A man must be sacrificed now and again to provide for the next generation of men. — Amy Lowell Generations Copy Share Image
Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose. — Amy Lowell Flower Copy Share Image
Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour. — Amy Lowell Butterfly Copy Share Image
Happiness: We rarely feel it. I would buy it, beg it, steal it, Pay in coins of dripping blood For this one… — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
I am tired, beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you; of squeezing it into little ink drops, and posting… — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
To understand Vers libre, one must abandon all desire to find in it the even rhythm of metrical feet. One must allow… — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry Wheels out into… — Amy Lowell Business Copy Share Image
Polyphonic prose is a kind of free verse, except that it is still freer. Polyphonic makes full use of cadence, rime, alliteration,… — Amy Lowell Alliteration Copy Share Image
How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree; The moon Wavering across a bed of… — Amy Lowell Beautiful Copy Share Image
I never deny poems when they come; whatever I am doing, whatever I am writing, I lay it aside and attend to… — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
“You lie upon my heart as on a nest, Folded in peace, for you can never know How crushed I am with… — Amy Lowell Adventure Copy Share Image
So with the stretch of the white road before me, Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun, Fields that are white, stained… — Amy Lowell Blue Copy Share Image
This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth; And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In… — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
This is America, This vast, confused beauty, This staring, restless speed of loveliness, Mighty, overwhelming, crude, of all forms, Making grandeur out… — Amy Lowell America Copy Share Image
“ Decade When you came, you were like red wine and honey, And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its… — Amy Lowell Love Copy Share Image
My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. Their shapes are quaint and beautiful, And they… — Amy Lowell Beautiful Copy Share Image
“You are ice and fire, The touch of you burns my hands like snow. You are cold and flame. You are the… — Amy Lowell Flame Copy Share Image
How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art! — Amy Lowell Art Copy Share Image
All books are either dreams or swords, you can cut, or you can drug, with words. — Amy Lowell Books Copy Share Image
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart. — Amy Lowell Flower Copy Share Image
The stigma of oddness is the price a myopic world always exacts of genius. — Amy Lowell Genius Copy Share Image
Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease. — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me,and drench me in loneliness. — Amy Lowell Loneliness Copy Share Image
Let us be of cheer, remembering that the misfortunes hardest to bear are those which never come. — Amy Lowell Misfortunes Copy Share Image
Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give. — Amy Lowell Earth Copy Share Image
Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run. — Amy Lowell Copy Share Image
Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon. — Amy Lowell Beautiful Copy Share Image
To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know. — Amy Lowell Astronomy Copy Share Image
If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed. — Amy Lowell Belief Copy Share Image
