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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A RHYME OUT OF THE MOTLEY, by AMY LOWELL Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: I grasped a thread of silver: it cut me to the bone
Last Line: And leave him there.
First Line: I grasped a thread of silver: it cut me to the bone
Last Line: And leave him there.
"I grasped a thread of silver; it cut me to the bone --
I reached for an apple; it was bleak as a stone --
I reached for a heart, and touched a raw blade --
And this was the bargain God had made
For a little gift of speech
Set a cubit higher than the common reach,
A debt running on until the fool is dead."
Carve a Pater Noster to put at his head
As a curse or a prayer,
And leave him there.
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