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Poem by Amy Lowell

The Poet

What instinct forces man to journey on,
Urged by a longing blind but dominant!
Nothing he sees can hold him, nothing daunt
His never failing eagerness.  The sun
Setting in splendour every night has won
His vassalage; those towers flamboyant
Of airy cloudland palaces now haunt
His daylight wanderings.  Forever done
With simple joys and quiet happiness
He guards the vision of the sunset sky;
Though faint with weariness he must possess
Some fragment of the sunsets majesty;
He spurns lifes human friendships to profess
Lifes loneliness of dreaming ecstasy.

Amy Lowell

Amy Lowell's other poems:
  1. The Book of Hours of Sister Clotilde
  2. The Bungler
  3. The Matrix
  4. The Bombardment
  5. The Coal Picker

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Keats The Poet ("Wheres the Poet? show him! show him")
  • Mark Akenside The Poet ("Of all the various lots around the ball")
  • Lucy Montgomery The Poet ("There was strength in him and the weak won freely from it")

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