Fish

Amy Lowell

“So . . .” they said,
With their wine-glasses delicately poised,
Mocking at the thing they cannot understand.
“So . . .” they said again,
Amused and insolent.
The silver on the table glittered,
And the red wine in the glasses
Seemed the blood I had wasted
In a foolish cause.

Next 10 Poems

• Amy Lowell : Fool's Money Bags
• Amy Lowell : Fragment
• Amy Lowell : Francis Ii, King Of Naples
• Amy Lowell : Frankincense And Myrrh
• Amy Lowell : Fringed Gentians
• Amy Lowell : From One Who Stays
• Amy Lowell : Game
• Amy Lowell : Garden Games
• Amy Lowell : Happiness
• Amy Lowell : Hero-worship

Previous 10 Poems

• Amy Lowell : Fatigue
• Amy Lowell : Epitaph Of A Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
• Amy Lowell : Epitaph In A Church-yard In Charleston, South Carolina
• Amy Lowell : Eleven O'clock
• Amy Lowell : Dreams
• Amy Lowell : Drawing-room
• Amy Lowell : Diya [original Title Is Greek, Delta-iota-psi-alpha]
• Amy Lowell : Crowned
• Amy Lowell : Crepuscule Du Matin
• Amy Lowell : Convalescence