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Witches are moon-birds, Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
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
False
Bird
Moon
Inspirational
Beautiful
Women
Witches
Life
Witch
Birds
More quotes by Amy Lowell
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our heart.
Amy Lowell
In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jeweled fan, I too am a rare Pattern.
Amy Lowell
Rapture's self is three parts sorrow.
Amy Lowell
Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me,and drench me in loneliness.
Amy Lowell
Without poetry the soul and heart of man starves and dies.
Amy Lowell
This is America, This vast, confused beauty, This staring, restless speed of loveliness, Mighty, overwhelming, crude, of all forms, Making grandeur out of profusion, Afraid of no incongruities, Sublime in its audacity, Bizarre breaker of moulds.
Amy Lowell
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
Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run.
Amy Lowell
I shall go Up and down In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed.
Amy Lowell
Love is a game-yes? I think it is a drowning.
Amy Lowell
Happiness, to some, is elation to others it is mere stagnation.
Amy Lowell
Lilacs, False Blue, White, Purple, Colour of lilac, Your great puffs of flowers Are everywhere in this my New England ... Lilacs in dooryards Holding quiet conversation with an early moon Lilacs watching a deserted house ... Lilacs, wind-beaten, staggering under a lopsided shock of bloom, You are everywhere.
Amy Lowell
Happiness, to some, elation Is, to others, mere stagnation.
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 that tradition, and we all know how thin, how lacking in charm, the copies of Keats have become.
Amy Lowell
All books are either dreams or swords, you can cut, or you can drug, with words.
Amy Lowell
When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum.
Amy Lowell
A black cat among roses, phlox, lilac-misted under a quarter moon, the sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still. It is dazed with moonlight, contented with perfume.
Amy Lowell
Time! Joyless emblem of the greed of millions, robber of the best which earth can give.
Amy Lowell
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
When trying to explain anything, I usually find that the Bible, that great collection of magnificent and varied poetry, has said it before in the best possible way.
Amy Lowell