Poets | Bookstore | Poem of the Day | Top 40 | Search | Comments | Privacy
December 21st, 2014 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 279,673 comments.
Amy Lowell - A Fairy Tale

On winter nights beside the nursery fire
We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals
Builded its pictures.  There before our eyes
We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone
Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung
With pendent stalactites like frozen vines;
And all along the walls at intervals,
Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed,
And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves
Divided where there peered a laughing face.
The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind,
A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone.
High pointed windows pierced the southern wall
Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires
To stain the tessellated marble floor
With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue;
And in the shade beyond the further door,
Its sober squares of black and white were hid
Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob
Of lackeys and retainers come to view
The Christening.
A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng
About the entrance parted as the guests
Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts.
Our eager fancies noted all they brought,
The glorious, unattainable delights!
But always there was one unbidden guest
Who cursed the child and left it bitterness.
The fire falls asunder, all is changed,
I am no more a child, and what I see
Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life.
The gifts are there, the many pleasant things:
Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name
Which honors all who bear it, and the power
Of making words obedient.  This is much;
But overshadowing all is still the curse,
That never shall I be fulfilled by love!
Along the parching highroad of the world
No other soul shall bear mine company.
Always shall I be teased with semblances,
With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile
Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy
Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering
Strews all the ground about with coloured sherds.
So I behold my visions on the ground
No longer radiant, an ignoble heap
Of broken, dusty glass.  And so, unlit,
Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps
Force me forever through the passing days.

Share |

Added: Feb 1 2004 | Viewed: 16912 times | Comments and analysis of A Fairy Tale by Amy Lowell Comments (0)

A Fairy Tale - Comments and Information

Poet: Amy Lowell
Poem: 27. A Fairy Tale
Volume: A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass
- Lyrical Poems
Poem of the Day: Sep 24 2014
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, A Fairy Tale, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it.

Poem Info

Lowell Info
Copyright © 2000-2012 Gunnar Bengtsson. All Rights Reserved. Links | Bookstore