#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear
I am not sorry for my soul That it must go unsatisfied, For it can live a thousand times, Eternity is deep and wide. I am not sorry for my soul,
I said, “My youth is gone Like a fire beaten out by the rain… That will never sway and sing Or play with the wind again.” I said, “It is no great sorrow
It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart
Heaven-invading hills are drowned In wide moving waves of mist, Phlox before my door are wound In dripping wreaths of amethyst. Ten feet away the solid earth
I love too much; I am a river Surging with spring that seeks the… I am too generous a giver, Love will not stoop to drink of me… His feet will turn to desert place…
I shall gather myself into myself… I shall take my scattered selves a… Fusing them into a polished crysta… Where I can see the moon and the… I shall sit like a sibyl, hour aft…
Was that his step that sounded on… Was that his knock I heard upon t… I grow so tired I almost cease to… And yet I would that he might com… It was the wind I heard, that moc…
I would live in your love as the s… Borne up by each wave as it passes… I would empty my soul of the dream… I would beat with your heart as it…
The beast to the beast is calling, And the soul bends down to wait; Like the stealthy lord of the jung… The white man calls his mate. The beast to the beast is calling,
Oh beauty that is filled so full o… Where every passing anguish left i… I pray you grant to me this depth… That I may see before it disappea… Blown through the gateway of our h…
WAVES are the sea’s white daught… And raindrops the children of rain… But why for my shimmering body Have I a mother like Pain? Night is the mother of stars,
Now while my lips are living Their words must stay unsaid, And will my soul remember To speak when I am dead? Yet if my soul remembered
THE sun was gone, and the moon wa… Over the blue Connecticut hills; The west was rosy, the east was fl… And over my head the swallows rush… This way and that, with changeful…
My answered prayer came up to me, And in the silence thus spake he: “O you who prayed for me to come, Your greeting is but cold and dumb… My heart made answer: “You are fa…