American poet (1874-1925)
Beneath this sod lie the remains
Of one who died of growing pains.
AMY LOWELL
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"Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success", Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds
Hate is ravening vulture beaks descending on a place of skulls.
AMY LOWELL
"The Revenge", The New Republic, July 12, 1922
Witches are moon-birds,
Witches are the women of the false, beautiful moon.
AMY LOWELL
"Witch-Woman"
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
"Frankincense and Myrrh", A Dome of Many-coloured Glass