Robert Lowell
“To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage&Quot; by Robert Lowell

“To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage&Quot; by Robert Lowell

"The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open. Our magnolia blossoms.Life begins to happen. My hopped up husband drops his home disputes, and hits the streets to cruise ...

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Memories Of West Street And Lepke  by Robert Lowell

Memories Of West Street And Lepke by Robert Lowell

Only teaching on Tuesdays, book-worming in pajamas fresh from the washer each morning, I hog a whole house on Boston's "hardly passionate Marlborough Street," where even the ...

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Skunk Hour by Robert Lowell

Skunk Hour by Robert Lowell

(for Elizabeth Bishop) Nautilus Island's hermitheiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; her sheep still graze above the sea.Her son's a bishop. Her farmer is ...

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The Quaker Graveyard In Nantucket by Robert Lowell

The Quaker Graveyard In Nantucket by Robert Lowell

Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of the airand the beasts and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that moveth upon the earth.IA brackish ...

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Children Of Light by Robert Lowell

Children Of Light by Robert Lowell

Our fathers wrung their bread from stocks and stonesAnd fenced their gardens with the Redmen's bones;Embarking from the Nether Land of Holland,Pilgrims unhouseled by Geneva's ...

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“To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage&Quot; by Robert Lowell

“To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage&Quot; by Robert Lowell

"The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open.Our magnolia blossoms.Life begins to happen.My hopped up husband drops his home disputes,and hits the streets to cruise for ...

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Dolphin by Robert Lowell

Dolphin by Robert Lowell

My Dolphin, you only guide me by surprise,a captive as Racine, the man of craft,drawn through his maze of iron compositionby the incomparable wandering voice of Phedre.When I was ...

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The Drunken Fisherman by Robert Lowell

The Drunken Fisherman by Robert Lowell

Wallowing in this bloody sty,I cast for fish that pleased my eye(Truly Jehovah's bow suspendsNo pots of gold to weight its ends);Only the blood-mouthed rainbow troutRose to my ...

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Falling Asleep Over The Aeneid by Robert Lowell

Falling Asleep Over The Aeneid by Robert Lowell

An old man in Concord forgets to go to morning service. He falls asleep, while reading Vergil, and dreams that he is Aeneas at the funeral of Pallas, an Italian prince.The sun is ...

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My Last Afternoon With Uncle Devereux Winslow by Robert Lowell

My Last Afternoon With Uncle Devereux Winslow by Robert Lowell

1922: the stone porch of my Grandfather’s summer houseI“I won’t go with you. I want to stay with Grandpa!” That’s how I threw cold water on my Mother and Father’s watery martini ...

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Sailing Home From Rapallo by Robert Lowell

Sailing Home From Rapallo by Robert Lowell

Your nurse could only speak Italian, but after twenty minutes I could imagine your final week, and tears ran down my cheeks.... When I embarked from Italy with my Mother’s body, ...

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After The Surprising Conversions by Robert Lowell

After The Surprising Conversions by Robert Lowell

September twenty-second, Sir: today I answer. In the latter part of May, Hard on our Lord’s Ascension, it began To be more sensible. A gentleman Of more than common understanding, ...

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Homecoming by Robert Lowell

Homecoming by Robert Lowell

What was is ... since 1930;the boys in my old gangare senior partners. They start upbald like baby birdsto embrace retirement.At the altar of surrender,I met youin the hour of ...

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To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage by Robert Lowell

To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage by Robert Lowell

'It is the future generation that presses into being by means ofthese exuberant feelings and supersensible soap bubbles of ours.'- Schopenhauer'The hot night makes us keep our ...

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Home After Three Months Away by Robert Lowell

Home After Three Months Away by Robert Lowell

Gone now the baby's nurse,a lioness who ruled the roostand made the Mother cry.She used to tiegobbets of porkrind in bowknots of gauze- three months they hung like soggy toaston ...

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Waking In The Blue by Robert Lowell

Waking In The Blue by Robert Lowell

The night attendant, a B.U. sophomore,rouses from the mare's-nest of his drowsy headpropped on The Meaning of Meaning.He catwalks down our corridor.Azure daymakes my agonized blue ...

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For The Union Dead by Robert Lowell

For The Union Dead by Robert Lowell

Relinquunt Ommia Servare Rem Publicam.The old South Boston Aquarium standsin a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its ...

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Epilogue by Robert Lowell

Epilogue by Robert Lowell

Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme--why are they no help to me nowI want to makesomething imagined, not recalled?I hear the noise of my own voice:The painter's vision is not ...

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History by Robert Lowell

History by Robert Lowell

History has to live with what was here,clutching and close to fumbling all we had--it is so dull and gruesome how we die,unlike writing, life never finishes.Abel was finished; ...

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Man And Wife by Robert Lowell

Man And Wife by Robert Lowell

Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother's bed;the rising sun in war paint dyes us red;in broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine,abandoned, almost Dionysian.At last the trees are ...

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July In Washington by Robert Lowell

July In Washington by Robert Lowell

The stiff spokes of this wheel? touch the sore spots of the earth.?? On the Potomac, swan-white? power launches keep breasting the sulphurous wave.?? Otters slide and dive ...

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Harpo Marx by Robert Lowell

Harpo Marx by Robert Lowell

Harpo Marx, your hands white-feathered the harp—the only words you ever spoke were sound.The movie's not always the sick man of the arts,yours touched the stars; Harpo, your ...

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Mr. Edwards And The Spider by Robert Lowell

Mr. Edwards And The Spider by Robert Lowell

I saw the spiders marching through the air,Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed dayIn latter August when the hayCame creaking to the barn. But whereThe wind is westerly,Where ...

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Water by Robert Lowell

Water by Robert Lowell

It was a Maine lobster town—each morning boatloads of handspushed off for granitequarries on the islands,and left dozens of bleak white frame houses stucklike oyster shellson a ...

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