Crowned
Amy Lowell
You came to me bearing bright roses, Red like the wine of your heart; You twisted them into a garland To set me aside from the mart. Red roses to crown me your lover, And I walked aureoled and apart. Enslaved and encircled, I bore it, Proud token of my gift to you. The petals waned paler, and shriveled, And dropped; and the thorns started through. Bitter thorns to proclaim me your lover, A diadem woven with rue.
Next 10 Poems
- Amy Lowell : Diya [original Title Is Greek, Delta-iota-psi-alpha]
- Amy Lowell : Drawing-room
- Amy Lowell : Dreams
- Amy Lowell : Eleven O'clock
- Amy Lowell : Epitaph In A Church-yard In Charleston, South Carolina
- Amy Lowell : Epitaph Of A Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
- Amy Lowell : Fatigue
- Amy Lowell : Fish
- Amy Lowell : Fool's Money Bags
- Amy Lowell : Fragment
