Poem by Amy Lowell

Crowned

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.

1. Teatro Bambino. Dublin, N. H.
2. Reaping
3. On Carpaccio’s Picture: The Dream of St. Ursula
4. Frankincense and Myrrh
5. Sea Shell

Print

1125 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version