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Poem by Amy Lowell


A Tulip Garden


Guarded within the old red walls embrace,
Marshalled like soldiers in gay company,
The tulips stand arrayed.  Here infantry
Wheels out into the sunlight.  What bold grace
Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!
Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry,
With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye
Of purple batteries, every gun in place.
Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread,
With torches burning, stepping out in time
To some quick, unheard march.  Our ears are dead,
We cannot catch the tune.  In pantomime
Parades that army.  With our utmost powers
We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.



Amy Lowell


Amy Lowell's other poems:
  1. The Boston Athenaeum
  2. The Bungler
  3. The Fool Errant
  4. The Painter on Silk
  5. The Fruit Shop


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