#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
How many million Aprils came Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be, A bed of squills, how blue. And many a dancing April
A FOG drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea’ One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the wi…
Did you never know, long ago, how… That your love would never lessen… You were young then, proud and fre… You were too young to know. Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly…
I came to the crowded Inn of Eart… And called for a cup of wine, But the Host went by with averted… From a thirst as keen as mine. Then I sat down with weariness
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…
Crisply the bright snow whispered, Crunching beneath our feet; Behind us as we walked along the p… Our shadows danced, Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
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…
Vivid with love, eager for greater… Out of the night we come Into the corridor, brilliant and w… A metal door slides open, And the lift receives us.
MY forefathers gave me My spirit’s shaken flame, The shape of hands, the beat of he… The letters of my name. But it was my lovers,
My heart is but a little house With room for only three or four, And it was filled before you knock… Upon the door. I longed to bid you come within,
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
I SHOULD be glad of loneliness And hours that go on broken wings, A thirsty body, a tired heart And the unchanging ache of things, If I could make a single song
The kings they came from out the s… All dressed in ermine fine; They bore Him gold and chrysopras… And gifts of precious wine. The shepherds came from out the no…
When I go back to earth And all my joyous body Puts off the red and white That once had been so proud, If men should pass above
There is no lord within my heart, Left silent as an empty shrine Where rose and myrtle intertwine, Within a place apart. No god is there of carven stone