Red Orange Yellow Blue Dream Purple

Lowell's Imagist poetry is beautiful for its wildness and for its attention to the little details. Looking at her poem "The Captured Goddess," we see the seeking of another dreamer. The Goddess is so beautiful with her wings of every hue, more colorful than Joseph's coat! The Dream is full of rainbow feathers and flashing wings! How can America resist chasing after it?

Yet, is this the same American Dream we have seen in the other stories? The Dream in those stories was as this Goddess is at the end.
"Her fluted wings were fastened to her sides with cords...
They bargained in silver and gold,
In copper, in wheat...
The Goddess wept"
(1145).

How did we let this happen? Are we responsible? The American Dream holds such promise for happiness, for a full life... until people grab a hold of it and tie it down to the real world, and assign it monetary value. I want to cry with the Goddess and free the Dream, but I cannot control the other people. Like the narrator I am forced to turn my back on everyone and flee, lonely and colorless.

Again, note that the Dream is all about colors. Whether it be the colors of our country's racial constitution or the colors jazz lets us feel dancing in our souls... the Dream is not the same without her rainbow feathers.