#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
Lovers, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil
I let myself in at the kitchen doo… ‘It’s you,' she said. 'I can’t ge… Not answering your knock. I can n… Let people in than I can keep the… I’m getting too old for my size,…
When we locked up the house at nig… We always locked the flowers outsi… And cut them off from window light… The time I dreamed the door was t… And brushed with buttons upon slee…
One thing has a shelving bank, Another a rotting plank, To give it cozier skies And make up for its lack of size. My own strategic retreat
He saw her from the bottom of the… Before she saw him. She was star… Looking back over her shoulder at… She took a doubtful step and then… To raise herself and look again.…
One of my wishes is that those dar… So old and firm they scarcely show… Were not, as ’twere, the merest ma… But stretched away unto the edge o… I should not be withheld but that…
I love to toy with the Platonic n… That wisdom need not be of Athens… But well may be Laconic, even Boe… At least I will not have it syste…
My unexpected knocking at the door Started chairs thundering on the k… Knives and forks ringing on the su… Voices conflicting like the candid… A mighty farmer flung the house do…
I never dared be radical when youn… For fear it would make me conserva…
It snowed in spring on earth so dr… The flakes could find no landing p… Hordes spent themselves to make it… And still they failed of any lasti… They made no white impression on t…
Mary sat musing on the lamp—flame… Waiting for Warren. When she hear… She ran on tip—toe down the darken… To meet him in the doorway with th… And put him on his guard. “Silas…
The living come with grassy tread To read the gravestones on the hil… The graveyard draws the living sti… But never anymore the dead. The verses in it say and say:
He thought he kept the universe al… For all the voice in answer he cou… Was but the mocking echo of his ow… From some tree-hidden cliff across… Some morning from the boulder-brok…
To Ridgely Torrence On Last Looking into His 'Hesper… I often see flowers from a passing… That are gone before I can tell w… I want to get out of the train and…
They leave us so to the way we too…