#1942 #AmericanWriters #AWitnessTree #PulitzerPrize
My long two-pointed ladder’s stick… Toward heaven still. And there’s a barrel that I didn’… Beside it, and there may be two or… Apples I didn’t pick upon some bo…
When I see birches bend to left a… Across the lines of straighter dar… I like to think some boy’s been sw… But swinging doesn’t bend them dow… As ice-storms do. Often you must…
The three stood listening to a fre… Of wind that caught against the ho… Gulped snow, and then blew free ag… Dressed, but dishevelled from some… Meserve belittled in the great ski…
What tree may not the fig be gathe… The grape may not be gathered from… It’s all you know the grape, or kn… As a girl gathered from the birch… Equally with my weight in grapes,…
It is as true as Caesar’s name wa… That no economist was ever wiser (Though prodigal himself and a des… Of capital and calling thrift a mi… And when we get too far apart in w…
When the wind works against us in… And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the e… And whispers with a sort of stifle… The beast,
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…
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
The line-storm clouds fly tattered… The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones… And the hoof-prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for…
Where’s this barn’s house? It nev… Or joined with sheds in ring-aroun… The hunter scuffling leaves goes b… The gun reversed that he went out… The harvest moon and then the hunt…
Age saw two quiet children Go loving by at twilight, He knew not whether homeward, Or outward from the village, Or (chimes were ringing) churchwar…
This biplane is the shape of human… Its name might better be First Mo… Its makers’ name—Time cannot get… For it was writ in heaven doubly…
Having a wheel and four legs of it… Has never availed the cumbersome g… To get it anywhere that I can see… These hands have helped it go, and… Not all the motion, though, they e…
He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…
Out through the fields and the woo… And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and desce… I have come by the highway home,