#1942 #AmericanWriters #AWitnessTree #PulitzerPrize
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…
YOU come to fetch me from my work… When supper’s on the table, and we… If I can leave off burying the wh… Soft petals fallen from the apple… (Soft petals, yes, but not so barr…
When I got up through the mowing… The headless aftermath, Smooth-laid like thatch with the h… Half closes the garden path. And when I come to the garden gro…
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,
There’s a place called Far-away M… We never shall mow in again, Or such is the talk at the farmhou… The meadow is finished with men. Then now is the chance for the flo…
Come with rain, O loud Southweste… Bring the singer, bring the nester… Give the buried flower a dream; Make the settled snow—bank steam; Find the brown beneath the white;
He has dust in his eyes and a fan… A leg akimbo with which he can sin… And a mouthful of dye stuff instea…
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…
Something there is that doesn’t lo… That sends the frozen—ground—swell… And spills the upper boulders in t… And makes gaps even two can pass a… The work of hunters is another thi…
There overtook me and drew me in To his down-hill, early-morning st… And set me five miles on my road Better than if he had had me ride, A man with a swinging bag for load
If this uncertain age in which we… Were really as dark as I hear sag… And I convinced that they were re… I should not curse myself with it… But leaving not the chair I long…
Such a fine pullet ought to go All coiffured to a winter show, And be exhibited, and win. The answer is this one has been— And come with all her honors home.
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…
Some one in ancient Mas d’Azil Once took a little pebble wheel And dotted it with red for me, And sent it to me years and years— A million years to be precise—
Out walking in the frozen swamp on… I paused and said, “I will turn b… No, I will go on farther—and we s… The hard snow held me, save where… One foot went through. The view w…