#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
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
Wind the season-climate mixer In my Witches’ Weather Primer Says to make this Fall Elixir First you let the summer simmer, Using neither spoon nor skimmer,
I went to turn the grass once afte… Who mowed it in the dew before the… The dew was gone that made his bla… Before I came to view the levelle… I looked for him behind an isle of…
Mary sat musing on the lamp—flame… Waiting for Warren. When she hear… She ran on tip—toe down the darken… To meet him in the doorway with th… And put him on his guard. “Silas…
I WALKED down alone Sunday aft… To the place where John has been… To see for myself about the birch He said I could have to bush my p… The sun in the new-cut narrow gap
Before man to blow to right The wind once blew itself untaught… And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught… Man came to tell it what was wrong…
Something inspires the only cow of… To make no more of a wall than an… And think no more of wall—builders… Her face is flecked with pomace an… A cider syrup. Having tasted frui…
Love has earth to which she clings With hills and circling arms about… Wall within wall to shut fear out. But Thought has need of no such t… For Thought has a pair of dauntle…
A tree’s leaves may be ever so goo… So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing… It never will show much flower or… But I may be one who does not car…
Was there even a cause too lost, Ever a cause that was lost too lon… Or that showed with the lapse of t… For the generous tears of youth an…
This saying good-bye on the edge o… And cold to an orchard so young in… Reminds me of all that can happen… An orchard away at the end of the… All winter, cut off by a hill from…
The witch that came (the withered… To wash the steps with pail and ra… Was once the beauty Abishag, The picture pride of Hollywood. Too many fall from great and good
As far as I can see this autumn h… That spreading in the evening air… Makes the new moon look anything b… And pours the elm-tree meadow full… Is all the smoke from one poor hou…
He would declare and could himself… That the birds there in all the ga… From having heard the daylong voic… Had added to their own an oversoun… Her tone of meaning but without th…
For Lincoln MacVeagh Never tell me that not one star of… That slip from heaven at night and… Has been picked up with stones to… Some laborer found one faded and s…