Search

Search results

Displaying 171 - 180

Amy Lowell: Market Day

Market DayWhite, glittering sunlight fills the market square, Spotted and sprigged with shadows. Double rows Of bartering booths spread out their tempting shows Of globed and golden fruit…

Amy Lowell: Sea Shell

Sea ShellSea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing me a song, O Please! A song of ships, and sailor men, And parrots, and tropical trees,Of islands lost in the Spanish Main Which no man ever may find…

Amy Lowell: Teatro Bambino

Teatro BambinoDublin, N. H.How still it is! Sunshine itself here falls In quiet shafts of light through the high trees Which, arching, make a roof above the walls Changing from sun to…

Amy Lowell: The Crescent Moon

The Crescent MoonSlipping softly through the sky Little horned, happy moon, Can you hear me up so high? Will you come down soon?On my nursery window-sill Will you stay your steady flight?…

Amy Lowell: The Fool Errant

The Fool ErrantThe Fool Errant sat by the highway of life And his gaze wandered up and his gaze wandered down, A vigorous youth, but with no wish to walk, Yet his longing was great for the…

Amy Lowell: The Green Bowl

The Green BowlThis little bowl is like a mossy pool In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow Nodding in chequered sunshine of the trees; A quiet place, still, with the sound of birds,…

Amy Lowell: The Lamp of Life

The Lamp of LifeAlways we are following a light, Always the light recedes; with groping hands We stretch toward this glory, while the lands We journey through are hidden from our sight Dim…

Amy Lowell: The Little Garden

The Little GardenA 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…

Amy Lowell: The Painted Ceiling

The Painted CeilingMy Grandpapa lives in a wonderful house With a great many windows and doors, There are stairs that go up, and stairs that go down, And such beautiful, slippery floors.But…

Amy Lowell: The Road to Avignon

The Road to AvignonA Minstrel stands on a marble stair, Blown by the bright wind, debonair; Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor, Above on the terrace a turret door Frames a lady, listless…