"The Letter" Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper Like draggled fly's legs, What can you tell of the flaring moon Through the oak leave… - Amy Lowell
"The Letter"
Little cramped words scrawling all over
the paper
Like draggled fly's legs,
What can you tell of the flaring moon
Through the oak leaves?
Or of my uncertain window and the
bare floor
Spattered with moonlight?
Your silly quirks and twists have nothing
in them
Of blossoming hawthorns,
And this paper is dull, crisp, smooth,
virgin of loveliness
Beneath my hand.
I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart
against
The want of you;
Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
And posting it.
And I scald alone, here, under the fire
Of the great moon.
Amy Lowell, Selected Poems of Amy Lowell. Edited by Melissa Bradshaw. (Rutgers University Press November 30, 2002)
English
Collect this quote
About Amy Lowell
Amy Lawrence Lowell (9 February 1874 – 5 May 1925) was an American poet of the Imagist school who posthumously won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1926.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Alternative Names:
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Related quotes. More quotes will automatically load as you scroll down, or you can use the load more buttons.
Additional quotes by Amy Lowell
Enhance Your Quote Experience
Enjoy ad-free browsing, unlimited collections, and advanced search features with Premium.
Strain
IT is late
And the clock is striking thin hours,
But sleep has become a terror to me,
Lest I wake in the night
Bewildered,
And stretching out my arms to comfort myself with you,
Clasp instead the cold body of the darkness.
All night it will hunger over me,
And push and undulate against me,
Breathing into my mouth
And passing long fingers through my drifting hair.
Only the dawn can loose me from it,
And the gray streaks of morning melt it from my side.
Bring many candles,
Though they stab my tired brain
And hurt it.
For I am afraid of the twining of the darkness
And dare not sleep.
Loading...