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.
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