Year

2014

Text

Type

Publication

Contributors (1)

Subjects

Chronology Entries (1)

#	Year	Text	Linked Data
1	1914-1925	Lowell, Amy. Works. 1912 Lowell, Amy. A little song. In : Lyrical poems. In : Lowell, Amy. A dome of many-coloured glass. (Boston : H. Mifflin, 1912). … In a single flash, while your streaming hair Catches the stars and pulls them down To shine on some slumbering Chinese town... 1914 Lowell, Amy. Sword blades and poppy seed. (New York, N.Y. : Macmillan, 1914). A little shop with its various ware Spread on shelves with nicest care. Pitchers, and jars, and jugs, and pots, Pipkins, and mugs, and many lots Of lacquered canisters, black and gold, Like those in which Chinese tea is sold… These vases, poisoned venoms spout, Impregnate with old Chinese charms; Sealed urns containing mortal harms, They fill the mind with thoughts impure, Pestilent drippings from the ure Of vicious thinkings… At last, he poured it back into The china jar of Holland blue, Which he carefully carried to its place… Of sandalwood, and pungent China teas, Tobacco, coffee!"… At highest tide she lets her anchor go, And starts for China… Loose in a china teapot, may confess His need, but may not borrow till his friend Comes back to give… I brought from China, herbs the natives smoke, Was with me, and I thought merely to play a game… 1916 Lowell, Amy. Men, women and ghosts. (New York, N.Y. : Macmillan, 1916). The china shone upon the dresser, topped By polished copper vessels which her skill Kept brightly burnished. It was very still… He drew her into the shade of the sails, And whispered tales Of voyages in the China seas, And his arm around her Held and bound her… Tramp of men. Steady tramp of men. Slit-eyed Chinese with long pigtails Bearing oblong things upon their shoulders March slowly along the road to Longwood… And one of them Captain Bennett's dining-table! And sixteen splendid Chinamen, all strong and able And of assured neutrality… The fire snaps pleasantly, and the old Chinaman nods—nods… The china mandarin on the bookcase nods slowly, forward and back--forward and back--and the red rose writhes and wriggles, thrusting its flaming petals under and over one another like tortured snakes… A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven flowers and fruits in blackening gold… He took his Chinese pastilles and put them in a mass Upon the mantelpiece till he could seek a plate Worthy to hold them burning… I saw them as a circle of ghosts Sipping blackness out of beautiful china, And mildly protesting against my coarseness In being alive… A man carries a china mug of coffee to a distant chair… 1917 Lowell, Amy. Ombre chinoise. In : The Yale review ; Jan. (1917). Red foxgloves against a yellow wall Streaked with plum-coloured shadows ; A lady with a red and blue sunshade ; The slow dash of waves upon a parapet That is all. Non-existent – immortal – A solid as the centre of a ring of fine gold. 1917 Lowell, Amy. Tendencies in modern American poetry. (New York, N.Y. : Macmilan, 1917). What are these names ? Some are Anglo-Saxon, aome are clearly German ; one, 'Russian Sonia', tells of an origin, if not distinctly national, at least distinctly cosmopolitan ; an other, 'Yee Bow', is as obviously Chinese. We do not find German, French, Chinese names in Mr. Frost's books… Sometimes the poet's conception of more Chinese than Japanese : An Oiran and her Kamuso. Gilded hummingbirds are whizzing Through the palace garden, Deceived by the jade petals Of the Emperor's jewel-trees. That is almost distinctly Chinese… In 'Spoon River', there are no primary characters, no secondary characters. We have only a town and the people who inhabit it. The Chinese laundry-man is as important to himself as the State's Attorney is to himself… 1918 Lowell, Amy. Can Grande's castle. (Boston : H. Mifflin, 1918). The coaling ships have arrived, and the shore is a hive of Negroes, and Malys, and Lascars, and Chinese… The beautiful dresses, Blue, Green, Mauve, Yellos ; And the beautiful green pointed hats Like Chinese porcelains !... Vessels glaore choke the wharves. From China, Siam, Malaya ; Sumatra, Europe, America… Winter, with green, high, angular seas. Bot over the water, far toward China, are burning the furnaces of three great steamers, and four sailing vessels heel over, with decks slanted and sails full and pulling… Ten ships sailing for China on a fair May wind. Ten ships sailing from one world into another, but never again into the one they left… 1919 Lowell, Amy. Pictures of the floating world. (London : Macmillan, 1919). Foreword : The first part of this book represents some of the charm I have found in delving into Chinese and Japanese poetry… From China I thought : The moon, Shining upon the many steps of the palace before me… It plays at ball in old, blue Chinese gardens, And shakes wrought dice-cups in Pagan temples Amid the broken flutings of white pillars… Above, the models of four brown Chinese junks Sailing round the brown walls, Silent and motionless…The brown Chinese junks sail silently round the brown walls… Thrust back against the swaying lilac leaves, Will bloom and fade before the China asters Smear their crude colours over Autumn hazes… Toss on some Chinese white to flash the clouds, And trust the sunlight you've got in your paint. Warm it on tea-pots She sat in a Chinese wicker chair Wide at the top like a spread peacock's tail, And toyed with a young man's heart which she held lightly in her fingers… A Dresden china shepherdess, Flaunted before a tall mirror On a high mantelpiece… 1925 Lowell, Amy. What's o'clock. (Boston : Houghton Mifflin, 1925). The strange pink colour of Chinese porcelains ; Wonderful – the glow of them… I might be sighting a tea-clipper, Tacking into the blue bay, Just back from Canton With her hold full of green and blue porcelain, And a Chinese coolie leaning over the rail Gazing at the white spire With dull, sea-spent eyes… Pipkins, pans, and pannikins, China teapots, tin and pewter, Baskets woven of green rushes… Charging the noses of quill-driving clerks When a ship was in from China. You called to them : "Goose-quill men, goose-quill men, May is a month for flitting," Until they writhed on their high stools And wrote poetry on their letter-sheets behind the propped-up ledgers… I might be sighting a tea-clipper, Tacking into the blue bay, Just back from Canton With her hold full of green and blue porcelain, And a Chinese coolie leaning over the rail Gazing at the white spire With dull, sea-spent eyes…	Person: Lowell, Amy