Robert Lowell
Poet
1917-03-01
Quotes by Robert Lowell
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And blue-lung'd combers lumbered to the kill.
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We are all old-timers,each of us holds a locked razor.
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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 gnarled November makes the spiders flyInto the apparitions of the sky,They purpose nothing but their ease and dieUrgently beating east to sunrise and the sea;
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We are all old-timers,each of us holds a locked razor.
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And blue-lung'd combers lumbered to the kill.
Read quote -
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 gnarled November makes the spiders flyInto the apparitions of the sky,They purpose nothing but their ease and dieUrgently beating east to sunrise and the sea;
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The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train.
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In Boston serpents whistle at the cold.
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