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1874–1925

Apology

Amy Lowell

Be not angry with me that I bear Your colours everywhere, All through each crowded street, And meet

The wonder-light in every eye, As I go by. Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze, Blinded by rainbow haze,

The stuff of happiness, No less, Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds Of peacock golds.

Before my feet the dusty, rough-paved way Flushes beneath its gray. My steps fall ringed with light, So bright,

It seems a myriad suns are strown About the town. Around me is the sound of steepled bells, And rich perfumed smells

Hang like a wind-forgotten cloud, And shroud Me from close contact with the world. I dwell impearled.

You blazon me with jewelled insignia. A flaming nebula Rims in my life. And yet You set

The word upon me, unconfessed To go unguessed.

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Apology · Amy Lowell · Poetry Cove