#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
When first I saw you, felt you ta… I could not speak for happiness to… How more than all they said your h… How strong you were, and quick to… I dared not say: “I who am least…
I asked the heaven of stars What I should I give my love— It answered me with silence, Silence above. I asked the darkened sea
Oh, there are eyes that he can see… And hands to make his hands rejoic… But to my lover I must be Only a voice. Oh, there are breasts to bear his…
For W. P. The little park was filled with pe… The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go…
I sang my songs for the rest, For you I am still; The tree of my song is bare On its shining hill. For you came like a lordly wind,
Oh Litis, little slave, why will… These long Egyptian noons bend do… Bowed like the yarrow with a yello… There, lift your eyes no man has e… Dark eyes that wait like faggots f…
I. Spirit’s House From naked stones of agony I will build a house for me; As a mason all alone I will raise it, stone by stone,
Lyric night of the lingering Indi… Shadowy fields that are scentless… Never a bird, but the passionless… Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far of…
The lightning spun your garment fo… Of silver filaments with fire shot… A broidery of lamps that lit for y… The steadfast splendor of enduring… The moon drifts dimly in the heave…
AT six o’clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty r… The bells of the mission down in t… Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as…
Your beauty lives in mystic melodi… And all the light about you breath… Your voice awakes the dreaming air… Within our music-haunted memories. The sirens’ strain that sank withi…
To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive, shy year…
Oh if I were the velvet rose Upon the red rose vine, I’d climb to touch his window And make his casement fine. And if I were the little bird
SUPPER comes at five o’clock, At six, the evening star, My lover comes at eight o’clock’ But eight o’clock is far. How could I bear my pain all day
The dreams of my heart and my mind… Nothing stays with me long, But I have had from a child The deep solace of song; If that should ever leave me,