#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…
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,
I never dared be radical when youn… For fear it would make me conserva…
It went many years, But at last came a knock, And I thought of the door With no lock to lock. I blew out the light,
At the end of the row I stepped on the toe Of an unemployed hoe. It rose in offense And struck me a blow
The fisherman’s swapping a yarn fo… Under the hand of the village barb… And her in the angle of house and… His deep-sea dory has found a harb… At anchor she rides the sunny sod
She stood against the kitchen sink… Over the sink out through a dusty… At weeds the water from the sink m… She wore her cape; her hat was in… Behind her was confusion in the ro…
“You ought to have seen what I sa… To the village, through Mortenson… Blueberries as big as the end of y… Real sky-blue, and heavy, and read… In the cavernous pail of the first…
As gay for you to take your father… As take his gun—rod—to go hunting—… You nick my spruce until its fiber… It gives up standing straight and… You link an arm in its arm and you…
A bird half wakened in the lunar n… Sang half way through its little i… Partly because it sang but once al… And that from no especial bush’s h… Partly because it sang ventriloqui…
The mountain held the town as in a… I saw so much before I slept ther… I noticed that I missed stars in… Where its black body cut into the… Near me it seemed: I felt it like…
The three stood listening to a fre… Of wind that caught against the ho… Gulped snow, and then blew free ag… Dressed, but dishevelled from some… Meserve belittled in the great ski…
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—
Sea waves are green and wet, But up from where they die, Rise others vaster yet, And those are brown and dry. They are the sea made land
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…