#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1928 #WestRunningBrook
Here come the line-gang pioneering… They throw a forest down less cut… They plant dead trees for living,… They string together with a living… They string an instrument against…
That far-off day the leaves in fli… Were letting in the colder light. A season-ending wind there blew That as it did the forest strew I leaned on with a singing trust
If, as they say, some dust thrown… Will keep my talk from getting ove… I’m not the one for putting off th… Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow…
You’ll wait a long, long time for… To happen in heaven beyond the flo… And the Northern Lights that run… The sun and moon get crossed, but… Nor strike out fire from each othe…
“OH, let’s go up the hill and sca… As reckless as the best of them to… By setting fire to all the brush w… With pitchy hands to wait for rain… Oh, let’s not wait for rain to mak…
The line—storm clouds fly tattered… The road is forlorn all day, Where a myriad snowy quartz stones… And the hoof—prints vanish away. The roadside flowers, too wet for…
My long two-pointed ladder’s stick… Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’… Beside it, and there may be two or… Apples I didn’t pick upon some bo…
How countlessly they congregate O’er our tumultuous snow, Which flows in shapes as tall as t… When wintry winds do blow!— As if with keenness for our fate,
Dust always blowing about the town… Except when sea—fog laid it down, And I was one of the children tol… Some of the blowing dust was gold. All the dust the wind blew high
Snow falling and night falling fas… In a field I looked into going pa… And the ground almost covered smoo… But a few weeds and stubble showin… The woods around it have it—it is…
I met a lady from the South who s… (You won’t believe she said it, bu… ‘None of my family ever worked, or… A thing to sell.’ I don’t suppose… Much matters. You may work for al…
A house that lacks, seemingly, mis… With doors that none but the wind… Its floor all littered with glass… It stands in a garden of old-fashi… I pass by that way in the gloaming…
Out alone in the winter rain, Intent on giving and taking pain. But never was I far out of sight Of a certain upper-window light. The light was what it was all abou…
The well was dry beside the door, And so we went with pail and can Across the fields behind the house To seek the brook if still it ran; Not loth to have excuse to go,
I slumbered with your poems on my… Spread open as I dropped them hal… Like dove wings on a figure on a t… To see, if in a dream they brought… I might not have the chance I mis…
