#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1923 #NewHampshire
You’ll wait a long, long time for… To happen in heaven beyond the flo… And the Northern Lights that run… The sun and moon get crossed, but… Nor strike out fire from each othe…
Poetry is when an emotion has foun…
But outer Space, At least this far, For all the fuss Of the populace Stays more popular
I stole forth dimly in the drippin… Between two downpours to see what… And a masked moon had spread down… To a cone mountain in the midnight… As if the final estimate were hers…
A governor it was proclaimed this… When all who would come seeking in… Ancestral memories might come toge… And those of the name Stark gathe… A rock-strewn town where farming h…
The swinging mill bell changed its… To tolling like the count of fate, And though at that the tardy ran, One failed to make the closing gat… There was a law of God or man
All crying, ‘We will go with you,… The foliage follow him, leaf and s… But a sleep oppresses them as they… And they end by bidding them as th… And they end by bidding him stay w…
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
When I was young, we dwelt in a v… By a misty fen that rang all night… And thus it was the maidens pale I knew so well, whose garments tra… Across the reeds to a window light…
Between two burrs on the map Was a hollow-headed snake. The burrs were hills, the snake wa… And the hollow head was a lake. And the dot in front of a name
The surest thing there is is we ar… And though none too successful at… Through everything presented, land… And now the very air, of what we r… What is this talked-of mystery of…
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.
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…
For every parcel I stoop down to… I lose some other off my arms and… And the whole pile is slipping, bo… Extremes too hard to comprehend at… Yet nothing I should care to leav…
To Time it never seems that he is… To set himself against the peaks o… To lay them level with the running… Nor is he overjoyed when they lie… But only grave, contemplative and…