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Amy Lowell - The Green Bowl

This little bowl is like a mossy pool
In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow
Nodding in chequered sunshine of the trees;
A quiet place, still, with the sound of birds,
Where, though unseen, is heard the endless song
And murmur of the never resting sea.
'T was winter, Roger, when you made this cup,
But coming Spring guided your eager hand
And round the edge you fashioned young green leaves,
A proper chalice made to hold the shy
And little flowers of the woods.  And here
They will forget their sad uprooting, lost
In pleasure that this circle of bright leaves
Should be their setting; once more they will dream
They hear winds wandering through lofty trees
And see the sun smiling between the leaves.

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Added: Feb 1 2004 | Viewed: 9720 times | Comments and analysis of The Green Bowl by Amy Lowell Comments (9)

The Green Bowl - Comments and Information

Poet: Amy Lowell
Poem: 15. The Green Bowl
Volume: A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass
- Lyrical Poems

Comment 9 of 9, added on January 1st, 2016 at 12:59 AM.


xTJzcVjEgRK from Jamaica
Comment 8 of 9, added on December 31st, 2015 at 2:11 PM.


GLwQbbgEsJD from Oman
Comment 7 of 9, added on November 28th, 2015 at 8:08 AM.

JQX8lD Very good blog article.Really looking forward to read more. Really Great.

crorkservice from Russia

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