#1913 #ABoy'sWill #AmericanWriters
Out of the mud two strangers came And caught me splitting wood in th… And one of them put me off my aim By hailing cheerily “Hit them har… I knew pretty well why he had drop…
The white-tailed hornet lives in a… That floats against the ceiling of… The exit he comes out at like a bu… Is like the pupil of a pointed gun… And having power to change his aim…
Did you stay up last night (the M… To see the star shower known as L… That once a year by hand or appara… Is so mysteriously pelted at us? It is but fiery puffs of dust and…
It is getting dark and time he dre… But the blizzard blinds him to any… The storm gets down his neck in an… That sucks his breath like a wicke… The snow blows on him and off him,…
Some say the world will end in fir… Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if I had to perish twice,
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…
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…
Four or five whippoorwills Have come down from their native l… To the open country edge To give us a piece of their bills. Two in June were a pair—
BROWN lived at such a lofty farm That everyone for miles could see His lantern when he did his chores In winter after half-past three. And many must have seen him make
A winter garden in an alder swamp, Where conies now come out to sun a… As near a paradise as it can be And not melt snow or start a dorma… It lifts existence on a plane of s…
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…
As vain to raise a voice as a sigh In the tumult of free leaves on hi… What are you in the shadow of tree… Engaged up there with the light an… Less than the coral-root you know
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…
(To hear us talk) The tree the tempest with a crash… Throws down in front of us is not… Our passage to our journey’s end f… But just to ask us who we think we…
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