How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree; The moon Wavering across a bed of tulips; The moon, Still, Upon your face. You shine, Beloved, You and the moon. But which is the reflection?
Only those of our poets who kept solidly to the Shakespearean tradition achieved any measure of success. But Keats was the last great exponent of tha… - Amy Lowell
Only those of our poets who kept solidly to the Shakespearean tradition achieved any measure of success. But Keats was the last great exponent of tha…
- Amy Lowell
The stigma of oddness is the price a myopic world always exacts of genius. - Amy Lowell
The stigma of oddness is the price a myopic world always exacts of genius.
Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity. - Amy Lowell
Poetry, far more than fiction, reveals the soul of humanity.
Rapture's self is three parts sorrow. - Amy Lowell
Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
I know that a creed is the shell of a lie. - Amy Lowell
I know that a creed is the shell of a lie.
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness. - Amy Lowell
When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed. - Amy Lowell
I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed.
How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree; The moon Wavering across a bed of tulips; The moon, Still,… - Amy Lowell
How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree; The moon Wavering across a bed of tulips; The moon, Still,…
Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour. - Amy Lowell
Oh! To be a butterfly Still, upon a flower, Winking with its painted wings, Happy in the hour.
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