What torture lurks within a single thought …
Amy Lowell
They have watered the street, …
If I could catch the green lantern of the firefly …
The chatter of little people …
All day I have watched the purple vine leaves …
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. …
O You, …
I …
I cut myself upon the thought of you …
Gushing from the mouths of stone men …
When I have baked white cakes …
Lilacs, …
I want no horns to rouse me up to-night, …
I walk down the garden paths, …
As I sit here in the quiet Summer night, …
This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight; …
Bath …
Why do you subdue yourself in golds and purples? …
Pale, with the blue of high zeniths, shimmered over with silver, brocaded …
Oblong, its jutted ends rounding into circles, …
A black cat among roses, …
Goaded and harassed in the factory …
In the brown water, …
Cold, wet leaves …
When I go away from you …
STUDY IN WHITES …
Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River …
I Red Slippers …
Tell me, …