A Blockhead
Amy Lowell
Before me lies a mass of shapeless days, Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Sifted dust Covers the formless heap. Reprieves, delays, There are none, ever. As a monk who prays The sliding beads asunder, so I thrust Each tasteless particle aside, and just Begin again the task which never stays. And I have known a glory of great suns, When days flashed by, pulsing with joy and fire! Drunk bubbled wine in goblets of desire, And felt the whipped blood laughing as it runs! Spilt is that liquor, my too hasty hand Threw down the cup, and did not understand.
Next 10 Poems
Previous 10 Poems
- Amy Lowell : A Ballad Of Footmen
- Richard Lovelace : When I By Thy Fair Shape Did Swear
- Richard Lovelace : Valiant Love
- Richard Lovelace : Upon The Curtaine Of Lucasta's Picture, It Was Thus Wrought
- Richard Lovelace : Upon The Curtain Of Lucasta's Picture, It Was Thus Wrought
- Richard Lovelace : To The Right Hon. My Lady Anne Lovelace
- Richard Lovelace : To The Genius Of Mr. John Hall. On His Exact Translation Of Hierocles His Comment Upon The Golden Verses Of Pythagoras.
- Richard Lovelace : To My Worthy Friend Mr. Peter Lilly: On That Excellent Picture Of His Majesty And The Duke Of York, Drawne By Him At Hampton- Court
- Richard Lovelace : To My Truely Valiant, Learned Friend; Who In His Brooke Resolv'd The Art Gladiatory Into The Mathematicks
- Richard Lovelace : To My Noble Kinsman Thomas Stanley, Esq. On His Lyrick Poems Composed By Mr. John Gamble.
