#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
It is late at night and still I a… But still I am steady and unaccus… As long as the Declaration guards My right to be equal in number of… It is nothing to me who runs the…
Abstraction is an old story with the philosophers, but it has been like a new toy in the hands of the artists of our day. Why can’t we have any one quality of poetry we choose by itself...
HERE come the line-gang pioneeri… They throw a forest down less cut… They plant dead trees for living,… They string together with a living… They string an instrument against…
A scent of ripeness from over a wa… And come to leave the routine road And look for what had made me stal… There sure enough was an apple tre… That had eased itself of its summe…
I found a dimpled spider, fat and… On a white heal-all, holding up a… Like a white piece of rigid satin… Assorted characters of death and b… Mixed ready to begin the morning r…
A neighbor of mine in the village Likes to tell how one spring When she was a girl on the farm, s… A childlike thing. One day she asked her father
Love and forgetting might have car… A little further up the mountain s… With night so near, but not much f… They must have halted soon in any… With thoughts of a path back, how…
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…
Square Matthew Hale’s young graft… Began to blossom at the age of fiv… And after having entertained the b… And cast its flowers and all the s… It set itself to keep those three…
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…
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 same leaves over and over agai… They fall from giving shade above To make one texture of faded brown And fit the earth like a leather g… Before the leaves can mount again
The shattered water made a misty d… Great waves looked over others com… And thought of doing something to… That water never did to land befor… The clouds were low and hairy in t…
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…
There were three in the meadow by… Gathering up windrows, piling hayc… With an eye always lifted toward t… Where an irregular, sun-bordered c… Darkly advanced with a perpetual d…