Amy Lowell




Apology

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.