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Amy Lowell: Part Fourth

Part FourthFrau Altgelt waited in the chilly street, Hustled by lackeys who ran up and down Shouting their coachmen's names; forced to retreat A pace or two by lurching chairmen; thrown…

Amy Lowell: Part Second

Part Second Herr Concert-Meister Altgelt played, And the four strings of his violin Were spinning like bees on a day in Spring. The notes rose into the wide sun-mote Which…

Amy Lowell: Part Third

Part ThirdThe `Residenz-Theater' sparked and hummed With lights and people. Gebnitz was to sing, That rare soprano. All the fiddles strummed With tuning up; the wood-winds made a ring Of…

Amy Lowell: Pickthorn Manor

Pickthorn ManorIHow fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round clouds, blown away, Let drop the yellow sunshine to gleam…

Amy Lowell: Red Slippers

Red SlippersRed slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey, windy sleet!Behind the polished glass, the slippers hang in long threads of red, festooning from the…

Amy Lowell: The Cross-Roads

The Cross-RoadsA bullet through his heart at dawn. On the table a letter signed with a woman's name. A wind that goes howling round the house, and weeping as in shame. Cold November dawn…

Amy Lowell: The Dinner-Party

The Dinner-PartyFish"So . . ." they said, With their wine-glasses delicately poised, Mocking at the thing they cannot understand. "So . . ." they said again, Amused and insolent. The silver…

Amy Lowell: The Fruit Shop

The Fruit ShopCross-ribboned shoes; a muslin gown, High-waisted, girdled with bright blue; A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown She pluckered her little brows into As she picked her dainty…