#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1928 #WestRunningBrook
Whose woods these are I think I k… His house is in the village, thoug… He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with sn… My little horse must think it quee…
As I went down the hill along the… There was a gate I had leaned at… And had just turned from when I f… As you came up the hill. We met.… We did that day was mingle great a…
I left you in the morning, And in the morning glow, You walked a way beside me To make me sad to go. Do you know me in the gloaming,
NOW that they’ve got it settled w… I’m going to tell them something t… They’ve got it settled wrong, and… Flattered I must be to have two t… To make a present of me to each ot…
The grade surmounted, we were ridi… Through level mountains nothing to… But scrub oak, scrub oak and the l… That kept the oaks from getting an… But as through the monotony we ran…
Oh, stormy stormy world, The days you were not swirled Around with mist and cloud, Or wrapped as in a shroud, And the sun’s brilliant ball
Did you stay up last night (the M… To see the star shower known as L… That once a year by hand or appara… Is so mysteriously pelted at us? It is but fiery puffs of dust and…
She stood against the kitchen sink… Over the sink out through a dusty… At weeds the water from the sink m… She wore her cape; her hat was in… Behind her was confusion in the ro…
The farm house lingers, though ave… With the new city street it has to… But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow… I ask as one who knew the brook, i…
Let the downpour roil and toil! The worst it can do to me Is carry some garden soil A little nearer the sea. ’Tis the world-old way of the rain
There sandy seems the golden sky And golden seems the sandy plain. No habitation meets the eye Unless in the horizon rim, Some halfway up the limestone wall…
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple’s a rose, And the pear is, and so’s
It took that pause to make him rea… The mountain he was climbing had t… As of a book held up before his ey… (And was a text albeit done in pla… Dwarf cornel, gold-thread, and mai…
Never ask of money spent Where the spender thinks it went. Nobody was ever meant To remember or invent What he did with every cent.
My Sorrow, when she’s here with m… Thinks these dark days of autumn r… Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered t… She walks the sodden pasture lane.
