#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
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…
We sit indoors and talk of the col… And every gust that gathers streng… Is a threat to the house. But the… We think of the tree. If it never… We’ll know, we say, that this was…
I came an errand one cloud-blowing… To a slab-built, black-paper-cover… Of one room and one window and one… The only dwelling in a waste cut o… A hundred square miles round it in…
I staid the night for shelter at a… Behind the mountain, with a mother… Two old-believers. They did all t… The Mother Folks think a witch who has famili…
The little old house was out with… In front at the edge of the road w… A roadside stand that too pathetic… It would not be fair to say for a… But for some of the money, the cas…
No speed of wind or water rushing… But you have speed far greater. Y… Back up a stream of radiance to th… And back through history up the st… And you were given this swiftness,…
One misty evening, one another’s g… We two were groping down a Malver… The last wet fields and dripping h… There came a moment of confusing l… Such as according to belief in Ro…
If, as they say, some dust thrown… Will keep my talk from getting ove… I’m not the one for putting off th… Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow…
She drew back; he was calm: “It is this that had the power.” And he lashed his open palm With the tender-headed flower. He smiled for her to smile,
EVEN the bravest that are slain Shall not dissemble their surprise On waking to find valor reign, Even as on earth, in paradise; And where they sought without the…
God made a beatous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden
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…
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…
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
To start the world of old We had one age of gold Not labored out of mines, And some say there are signs The second such has come,