#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Fairy snow, fairy snow, Blowing, blowing everywhere, Would that I Too, could fly Lightly, lightly through the air.
When I am dying, let me know That I loved the blowing snow Although it stung like whips; That I loved all lovely things And I tried to take their stings
(In Memory of J. W. T. Jr.) HE was a soldier in that fight Where there is neither flag nor dr… And without sound of musketry The stealthy foemen come.
Fields beneath a quilt of snow From which the rocks and stubble s… And in the west a shy white star That shivers as it wakes from deep… The restless rumble of the train,
Oh you are coming, coming, coming, How will hungry Time put by the h… But why does it anger my heart to… For one man out of the world of me… Oh I would live in myself only
O mother, I am sick of love, I cannot laugh nor lift my head, My bitter dreams have broken me, I would my love were dead. “Drink of the draught I brew for…
When we come home at night and clo… Standing together in the shadowy r… Safe in our own love and the gentl… Glad of familiar wall and chair an… Glad to leave far below the clangi…
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…
Pierrot stands in the garden Beneath a waning moon, And on his lute he fashions A little silver tune. Pierrot plays in the garden,
Oh flower-sweet face and bended fl… Oh violet whose purple cannot pale… Or forest fragrance ever faint or… Or breath and beauty pass among th… Yea, very truly has the poet said,
IN the pull of the wind I stand,… On the deck of a ship, rising, fal… Wild night around me, wild water u… Whipped by the storm, screaming an… Earth is hostile and the sea hosti…
Send out the singers—let the room… They have not eased my pain nor br… Close out the sun, for I would ha… That I may feel how black the gra… The sun is setting, for the light…
The dearest child in all the world… Should have the dearest songs, And that is why this little book To David-Boy belongs.
If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go… Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow. Or back to oak trees in the spring
If you have forgotten water lilies… On a dark lake among mountains in… If you have forgotten their wet, s… Then you can return and not be afr… But if you remember, then turn awa…