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Poem by Amy Lowell


To a Friend


I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night.  Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!



Amy Lowell


Amy Lowell's other poems:
  1. Reaping
  2. Teatro Bambino. Dublin, N. H.
  3. Red Slippers
  4. Frankincense and Myrrh
  5. Storm-Racked


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Matthew Arnold To a Friend ("Who prop, thou ask'st in these bad days, my mind?")
  • Anna Barbauld To a Friend ("May never more of pensive melancholy")
  • William Bowles To a Friend ("Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!")
  • William Shenstone To a Friend ("Have you ne'er seen, my gentle Squire!")
  • Joseph Drake To a Friend ("Yes, faint was my applause and cold my praise")
  • James Fields To a Friend ("Go, with a manly heart")
  • Richard Hovey To a Friend ("ALL too grotesque our thoughts are sometimes")
  • James Lowell To a Friend ("One strip of bark may feed the broken tree")
  • John Pierpont To a Friend ("Friend of my dark and solitary hour")

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