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Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?

Amy Lowell

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Amy Lowell
Age: 51 †
Born: 1874
Born: February 9
Died: 1925
Died: May 12
Poet
Socialite
Writer
Brookline
Massachusetts
Amy Lawrence Lowell
Eye
Smouldering
Woman
Stare
Inspirational
Sparks
Night
Staring
Men
Follow
Life
Darkness
Eyes
Upon

More quotes by Amy Lowell

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I must be mad, or very tired, When the curve of a blue bay beyond a railroad track Is shrill and sweet to me like the sudden springing of a tune, And the sight of a white church above thin trees in a city square Amazes my eyes as though it were the Parthenon.
Amy Lowell
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Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade.
Amy Lowell
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Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.
Amy Lowell
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Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
Amy Lowell
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I never deny poems when they come whatever I am doing, whatever I am writing, I lay it aside and attend to the arriving poem.
Amy Lowell
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I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against the want of you of squeezing it into little inkdrops, And posting it.
Amy Lowell
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Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
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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 that tradition, and we all know how thin, how lacking in charm, the copies of Keats have become.
Amy Lowell
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My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
Amy Lowell
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Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her.
Amy Lowell
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This is war: Boys flung into a breach Like shoveled earth And old men, Broken, Driving rapidly before crowds of people In a glitter of silly decorations. Behind the boys And the old men, Life weeps, And shreds her garments To the blowing winds.
Amy Lowell
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Now you are come! You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set. Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, I have no tones to answer.
Amy Lowell
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Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
Amy Lowell
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Poetry is the most concentrated form of literature it is the most emotionalized and powerful way in which thought can be presented.
Amy Lowell
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If what we worship fail us, still the fire burns on, and it is much to have believed.
Amy Lowell
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My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings Vibrate most readily to minor chords, Searching and sad my mind is stuffed with words Which voice the passion and the ache of things: Illusions beating with their baffled wings Against the walls of circumstance.
Amy Lowell
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Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease.
Amy Lowell
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I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed.
Amy Lowell
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In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jeweled fan, I too am a rare Pattern.
Amy Lowell
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Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell