11 Amy Lowell Poems

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Be inspired by these Amy Lowell poems. Amy was an American poet, born on February 9, 1874, in Brookline, Massachusetts, United States. In 1926 she posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. She died on May 12, 1925 however, her poetry lives on today.

To quote John Farrar, he said the following about Amy Lowell: " Amy Lowell has yet been a vigorous and brilliant experimenter in verse technique, and one of the strongest influences in molding the work of the younger poets of America. Whether she is writing a book on John Keats, a critique of modem poetry, a racing poetical legend of Indian or New Englander, or a delicate translation from the Chinese, she is whole-hearted about it.

A startling person is Miss Lowell. I have heard her speak many times, yet she never fails to interest and often electrify her audiences. As a conversationalist, seated in her own rooms, among a small group, she will talk and listen half or all of the night, and her talk reminds one that the art of conversation is not entirely lost in America.

The cause of poetry as she sees it means more to her, I believe, than any other one thing, and though ill health often makes traveling difficult for her, she moves constantly from one end of the country to another, interesting audiences in new tendencies and old in modern poetry. I can think of no other single figure among contemporary American writers so vivid in manner, so clear in purpose and so consistent in achievement."

Amy Lowell
Amy Lowell

Popular Amy Lowell Short Poems:

  1. Listening
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    'Tis you that are the music, not your song.
    The song is but a door which, opening wide.
    Lets forth the pent-up melody inside.
    Your spirit's harmony, which clear and strong
    Sings but of you. Throughout your whole life long
    Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, each divide
    This perfect beauty; waves within a tide.
    Or single notes amid a glorious throng.
    The song of earth has many different chords;
    Ocean has many moods and many tones
    Yet always ocean. In the damp Spring woods
    The painted trillium smiles, while crisp pine cones
    Autumn alone can ripen. So is this
    One music with a thousand cadences.

  2. poems of encouragement
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  3. Venetian Glass
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    As one who sails upon a wide, blue sea
    Far out of sight of land, his mind intent
    Upon the sailing of his little boat.
    On tightening ropes and shaping fair his course.
    Hears suddenly, across the restless sea.
    The rhythmic striking of some towered clock.
    And wakes from thoughtless idleness to time:
    Time, the slow pulse which beats eternity!
    So through the vacancy of busy life
    At intervals you cross my path and bring
    The deep solemnity of passing years.
    For you I have shed bitter tears, for you
    I have relinquished that for which my heart
    Cried out in selfish longing. And to-night
    Having just left you, I can say: "'Tis well.
    Thank God that I have known a soul so true.
    So nobly just, so worthy to be loved!"

  4. short love poems
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  5. To A Friend
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    I ask but one thing of you, only one.
    That always you will be my dream of you;
    That never shall I wake to find untrue
    All this I have believed and rested on.
    Forever vanished, like a vision gone
    Out into the night. Alas, how few
    There are who strike in us a chord we knew
    Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
    We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
    The world is full of rude awakenings
    And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground.
    Yet still our human longing vainly clings
    To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
    O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!

  6. friendship poems
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  7. Song
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    Oh! To be a flower
    Nodding in the sun.
    Bending, then upspringing
    As the breezes run;
    Holding up
    A scent-brimmed cup.
    Full of summer's fragrance to the summer sun.

    Oh! To be a butterfly
    Still, upon a flower.
    Winking with its painted wings,
    Happy in the hour.
    Blossoms hold
    Mines of gold
    Deep within the farthest heart of each chaliced flower.

    Oh! To be a cloud
    Blowing through the blue,
    Shadowing the mountains.
    Rushing loudly through
    Valleys deep
    Where torrents keep
    Always their plunging thunder and their misty arch of blue.

    Oh! To be a wave
    Splintering on the sand.
    Drawing back, but leaving
    Lingeringly the land.
    Rainbow light
    Flashes bright
    Telling tales of coral caves half hid in yellow sand.

    Soon they die, the flowers;
    Insects live a day;
    Clouds dissolve in showers;
    Only waves at play
    Last forever.
    Shall endeavor
    Make a sea of purpose mightier than we dream to-day?

  8. inspirational poems
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  9. Petals
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    Life is a stream
    On which we strew
    Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
    The end lost in dream.
    They float past our view.
    We only watch their glad, early start.

    Freighted with hope.
    Crimsoned with joy.
    We scatter the leaves of our opening rose;
    Their widening scope,
    Their distant employ,
    We never shall know.
    And the stream as it flows

    Sweeps them away,
    Each one is gone
    Ever beyond into infinite ways.
    We alone stay
    While years hurry on,
    The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays.

  10. poems about life
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  11. The Little Garden
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    A little garden on a bleak hillside
    Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow
    Lies far into the spring. The sun's pale glow
    Is scarcely able to melt patches wide
    About the single rose bush. All denied
    Of nature's tender ministries. But no, -
    For wonder-working faith has made it blow
    With flowers many hued and starry-eyed.
    Here sleeps the sun long, idle summer hours;
    Here butterflies and bees fare far to rove
    Amid the crumpled leaves of poppy flowers;
    Here four o'clocks, to the passionate night above
    Fling whiffs of perfume, like pale incense showers.
    A little garden, loved with a great love!

  12. garden poems
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  13. Wind
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
    He steals the down from the honeybee.
    He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
    He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.

    Laughing, dancing, sunny wind.
    Whistling, howling, rainy wind.
    North, South, East and West,
    Each is the wind I like the best.

    He calls up the fog and hides the hills.
    He whirls the wings of the great windmills.
    The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
    His whereabouts — but he's gone, the rover!

    Laughing, dancing, sunny wind.
    Whistling, howling, rainy wind.
    North, South, East and West,
    Each is the wind I like the best.

    The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
    The flowers bend low in courtesy.
    Each wave flings up a shower of pearls.
    The flag in front of the school unfurls.

    Laughing, dancing, sunny wind.
    Whistling, howling, rainy wind.
    North, South, East and West,
    Each is the wind I like the best.

  14. poems about the wind
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  15. The Pleiades
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    By day you cannot see the sky
    For it is up so very high.
    You look and look, but it's so blue
    That you can never see right through.

    But when night comes it is quite plain,
    And all the stars are there again.
    They seem just like old friends to me,
    I've known them all my life you see.

    There is the dipper first, and there
    Is Cassiopeia in her chair,
    Orion's belt, the Milky Way,
    And lots I know but cannot say.

    One group looks like a swarm of bees,
    Papa says they're the Pleiades;
    But I think they must be the toy
    Of some nice little angel boy.

    Perhaps his jackstones which to-day
    He has forgot to put away.
    And left them lying on the sky
    Where he will find them bye and bye.

    I wish he'd come and play with me.
    We'd have such fun, for it would be
    A most unusual thing for boys
    To feel that they had stars for toys!

  16. poems about stars
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  17. Azure And Gold
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    April had covered the hills
    With flickering yellows and reds,
    The sparkle and coolness of snow
    Was blown from the mountain beds.

    Across a deep-sunken stream
    The pink of blossoming trees.
    And from windless apple blooms
    The humming of many bees.

    The air was of rose and gold
    Arabesqued with the song of birds
    Who, swinging unseen under leaves.
    Made music more eager than words.

    Of a sudden, aslant the road,
    A brightness to dazzle and stun,
    A glint of the bluest blue,
    A flash from a sapphire sun.

    Blue-birds so blue, 'twas a dream.
    An impossible, unconceived hue.
    The high sky of summer dropped down
    Some rapturous ocean to woo.

    Such a colour, such infinite light!
    The heart of a fabulous gem.
    Many-faceted, brilliant and rare.
    Centre Stone of the earth's diadem!

    Centre Stone of the Crown of the World,
    "Sincerity" graved on your youth!
    And your eyes hold the blue-bird flash.
    The sapphire shaft, which is truth.

  18. poems about truth
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  19. A Little Song
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    When you, my Dear, are away, away,
    How wearily goes the creeping day.
    A year drags after morning, and night
    Starts another year of candle light.
    O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon!
    Grant me, I beg of you, this boon.

    Whirl round the earth as never sun
    Has his diurnal journey run.
    And, Moon, slip past the ladders of air
    In a single flash, while your streaming hair
    Catches the stars and pulls them down
    To shine on some slumbering Chinese town.
    O Kindly Sun! Understanding Moon!
    Bring evening to crowd the footsteps of noon.

    But when that long awaited day
    Hangs ripe in the heavens, your voyaging stay.
    Be morning, O Sun! with the lark in song,
    Be afternoon for ages long.
    And, Moon, let you and your lesser lights
    Watch over a century of nights.

  20. i miss you poems
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  21. A Winter Ride
    Poet: Amy Lowell

    Who shall declare the joy of the running!
    Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight!'
    Springing and spuming the tufts of wild heather.
    Swelling, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light.
    Everything mortal has moments immortal,
    Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright.

    So with the stretch of the white road before me,
    Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun.
    Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows.
    Strong with the strength of my horse as we run.
    Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight!
    Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one.

  22. winter poems
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