Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
The Bookshop
By Amy Lowell
PIERROT had grown old.
He wore spectacles
And kept a shop.
Opium and hellebore
He sold        5
Between the covers of books,
And perfumes distilled from the veins of old ivory,
And poisons drawn from lotus seeds one hundred years withered
And thinned to the translucence of alabaster.
He sang a pale song of repeated cadenzas        10
In a voice cold as flutes
And shrill as desiccated violins
I stood before the shop,
Fingering the comfortable vellum of an ancient volume,
Turning over its leaves,        15
And the dead moon looked over my shoulder
And fell with a green smoothness upon the page.
I read:
“I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have none other gods but me.”
Through the door came a chuckle of laughter        20
Like the tapping of unstrung kettledrums,
For Pierrot has ceased singing for a moment
To watch me reading.

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