#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1923 #NewHampshire
The land was ours before we were t… She was our land more than a hundr… Before we were her people. She wa… In Massachusetts, in Virginia, But we were England’s, still colo…
Where’s this barn’s house? It nev… Or joined with sheds in ring-aroun… The hunter scuffling leaves goes b… The gun reversed that he went out… The harvest moon and then the hunt…
I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place?
To start the world of old We had one age of gold Not labored out of mines, And some say there are signs The second such has come,
My unexpected knocking at the door Started chairs thundering on the k… Knives and forks ringing on the su… Voices conflicting like the candid… A mighty farmer flung the house do…
Seek not in me the big I capital, Not yet the little dotted in me se… If I have in me any I at all, 'Tis the iota subscript of the Gr… So small am I as an attention beg…
When the spent sun throws up its r… And goes down burning into the gul… No voice in nature is heard to cry… At what has happened. Birds, at l… It is the change to darkness in th…
The sound of the closing outside d… You made no sound in the grass wit… As far as you went from the door,… But you had awakened under the mor… The first song-bird that awakened…
When the wind works against us in… And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the e… And whispers with a sort of stifle… The beast,
The farm house lingers, though ave… With the new city street it has to… But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow… I ask as one who knew the brook, i…
A voice said, Look me in the star… And tell me truly, men of earth, If all the soul-and-body scars Were not too much to pay for birth…
He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…
Let me be the one To do what is done.
The white-tailed hornet lives in a… That floats against the ceiling of… The exit he comes out at like a bu… Is like the pupil of a pointed gun… And having power to change his aim…
Here’s first a gloveless hand warm… A perch and resting place ’twixt w… Bright-black-eyed silvery creature… The wings not folded in repose, bu… (Who would you be, I wonder, by t…
