#Americans #PulitzerPrize #1928 #WestRunningBrook
Love has earth to which she clings With hills and circling arms about… Wall within wall to shut fear out. But Thought has need of no such t… For Thought has a pair of dauntle…
I’ve tried the new moon tilted in… Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cl… As you might try a jewel in your h… I’ve tried it fine with little bre… Alone, or in one ornament combinin…
NOW that they’ve got it settled w… I’m going to tell them something t… They’ve got it settled wrong, and… Flattered I must be to have two t… To make a present of me to each ot…
Whose woods these are I think I k… His house is in the village, thoug… He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with sn… My little horse must think it quee…
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—
The witch that came (the withered… To wash the steps with pail and ra… Was once the beauty Abishag, The picture pride of Hollywood. Too many fall from great and good
As I went out a Crow In a low voice said, 'Oh, I was looking for you. How do you do? I just came to tell you
There overtook me and drew me in To his down-hill, early-morning st… And set me five miles on my road Better than if he had had me ride, A man with a swinging bag for load
What tree may not the fig be gathe… The grape may not be gathered from… It’s all you know the grape, or kn… As a girl gathered from the birch… Equally with my weight in grapes,…
Out of the mud two strangers came And caught me splitting wood in th… And one of them put me off my aim By hailing cheerily “Hit them har… I knew pretty well why he had drop…
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the hou… Like a pistil after the petals go The barn opposed across the way,
To drive Paul out of any lumber c… All that was needed was to say to… ‘How is the wife, Paul?’- and he’… Some said it was because be bad no… And hated to be twitted on the sub…
In the thick of a teeming snowfall I saw my shadow on snow. I turned and looked back up at the… Where we still look to ask the why Of everything below.
Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…