I would pour them upon you
And cover you,
For greatly do I feel this need
Of giving you something,
Even these poor things.
After expressing a desire to fill his/her loved one’s arms with gifts, the narrator—who could be a man or woman—confesses embarrassment at being unable to completely fulfill the beloved’s desires. (For the purpose of this analysis, we can refer to the narrator as a male, though this persona could very well be a female.) The narrator wishes he could pour gifts upon his beloved, wishes he could cover and shower her in gifts. As the quotation ends, however, the narrator says that he wishes to shower his beloved with gifts, even if those gifts are “poor things.” Here, we begin to realize that perhaps the narrator is poor and unable to pay for any gifts. This is clearly a point of contention for the narrator, as he wishes so desperately to give his beloved something concrete that would be a physical representation of their love. It is also possible that the narrator does have the money to give his beloved all these gifts, but views them as poor in comparison to her love and beauty; these objects may pale in comparison to her.
Fly, mares!
Strain your utmost
Scatter the milky dust of stars
Or the tigers will leap upon you and destroy you
With one lick of his vermillion tongue [.]
Amy Lowell once again evokes a very particular and stunning set of images in the readers minds. She urges the mares—the clouds—to cover the sky with their elegant beauty before the tigers with their “vermillion tongues” chase them away into oblivion. The tigers are symbolic of the sunrise, which chases away the mystery of the nighttime clouds. The mention of sunrise is very interesting, namely because the same set of clouds can be in the sky at night and during the day. And yet, to Lowell, nighttime clearly adds an element of grandeur to the clouds that is simply unattainable during the light of day.
Dead leaves gather under the pine-trees,
The brittle boughs of lilac-bushes
Sweep against the stars.
In this particular quotation, the narrator is emphasizing the transformative season of November. As the world prepares for the chill of winter, all of the plants—the leaves, pine trees, lilac bushes—are dead and brittle. These plants—and their lifeless remains—are symbolic of how the narrator feels inside. These descriptions are essential to an understanding of this poem, as they are representative of the emptiness and lifelessness the narrator feels. Just as nature is transitioning to night and darkness, so too is the narrator undergoing a similarly distressing and depressing transition.
The white mares of the moon rush along the sky
Beating their golden hoofs upon the glass Heavens [.]
In these opening lines, the narrator erects a very vivid and particular metaphorical image in the readers’ minds. The narrator likens the clouds that appear at night—under the watchful gleam of the moon—to “white mares.” The imagery of mares—female horses—evokes a very particularly connotation; one of power, elegance, and strength. In this way, Amy Lowell is associating a very particular set of attributes with night clouds. She clearly views them as strong, mysterious, and elegant in a way that can only be compared to the elegant beauty of mares.
