#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Women #XXCentury
Doubt no more that Oberon— Never doubt that Pan Lived, and played a reed, and ran After nymphs in a dark forest, In the merry, credulous days,—
Strong sun, that bleach The curtains of my room, can you n… Colourless this dress I wear?— This violent plaid Of purple angers and red shames; t…
If I were to walk this way Hand in hand with Grief, I should mark that maple-spray Coming into leaf. I should note how the old burrs
Why do you follow me?— Any moment I can be Nothing but a laurel-tree. Any moment of the chase I can leave you in my place
God had called us, and we came; Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor’s house, Open to us, bereft. Gay the lights of Heaven showed,
When I too long have looked upon… Wherein for me a brightness unobsc… Save by the mists of brightness ha… And terrible beauty not to be endu… I turn away reluctant from your li…
Before she has her floor swept Or her dishes done, Any day you’ll find her A-sunning in the sun! It’s long after midnight
Sweet love, sweet thorn, when ligh… I took your thrust, whereby I sin… And lie disheveled in the grass ap… A sodden thing bedrenched by tears… While rainy evening drips to misty…
Love is not all: it is not meat no… Nor slumber nor a roof against the… Nor yet a floating spar to men tha… And rise and sink and rise and sin… Love can not fill the thickened lu…
As to some lovely temple, tenantle… Long since, that once was sweet wi… Knowing well its altars ruined and… Grown up between the stones, yet f… Of grief hard driven, or great lon…
Butterflies are white and blue In this field we wander through. Suffer me to take your hand. Death comes in a day or two. All the things we ever knew
I think I will learn some beautif… Purposes, work hard at that. I think I will learn the Latin na… America but wherever they sing. (Shun meditation, though; invite t…
Mindful of you the sodden earth in… And all the flowers that in the sp… And dusty roads, and thistles, and… Rising of the round moon, all thro… The summer through, and each depar…
Down, you mongrel, Death! Back into your kennel! I have stolen breath In a stalk of fennel! You shall scratch and you shall wh…
April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs… Of dazzling mud and dingy snow; Hepaticas that pleased you so
