#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Dreamily over the roofs The cold spring rain is falling, Out in the lonely tree A bird is calling, calling. Slowly over the earth
They spoke of him I love With cruel words and gay; My lips kept silent guard On all I could not say. I heard, and down the street
When I have ceased to break my wi… Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I have looked Life in the ey…
I have no riches but my thoughts, Yet these are wealth enough for me… My thoughts of you are golden coin… Stamped in the mint of memory; And I must spend them all in song…
I must have passed the crest a whi… And now I am going down— Strange to have crossed the crest… But the brambles were always grabb… All the morning I thought how pro…
Did you never know, long ago, how… That your love would never lessen… You were young then, proud and fre… You were too young to know. Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly…
OH to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests
I am a cloud in the heaven’s heigh… The stars are lit for my delight, Tireless and changeful, swift and… I cast my shadow on hill and sea— But why do the pines on the mounta…
IF I must go to heaven’s end Climbing the ages like a stair, Be near me and forever bend With the same eyes above me there; Time will fly past us like leaves…
I have remembered beauty in the ni… Against black silences I waked to… A shower of sunlight over Italy And green Ravello dreaming on her… I have remembered music in the dar…
“She can’t be unhappy,” you said, “The smiles are like stars in her… And her laughter is thistledown Around her low replies.” “Is she unhappy?” you said—
Evening, and all the birds In a chorus of shimmering sound Are easing their hearts of joy For miles around. The air is blue and sweet,
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…
My heart is heavy with many a song Like ripe fruit bearing down the t… But I can never give you one— My songs do not belong to me. Yet in the evening, in the dusk
MY heart is a garden tired with a… Heaped with bending asters and dah… In the hazy sunshine, the garden r… The drench of rains and a snow-dro… Daffodils blowing in the cold wind…
