#Americans #PulitzerPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1936 #AFurtherRange
The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to ocean— Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.
#1928 #WestRunningBrook
As I have known them passionate and fin… The gold for which they leave the golden… Of lyric is a golden light divine, Never the gold of darkness from a mine. The spirit plays us strange religious pr…
#1942 #AWitnessTree
Something there is that doesn’t love a w… That sends the frozen—ground—swell under… And spills the upper boulders in the sun… And makes gaps even two can pass abreast… The work of hunters is another thing:
#1914 #NorthOfBoston
The people along the sand All turn and look one way. They turn their back on the land. They look at the sea all day. As long as it takes to pass
#1936 #AFurtherRange
Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain In Dalton that would someday make his f… There’d been some Boston people out to… And experts said that deep down in the m… The mica sheets were big as plate-glass…
#1923 #NewHampshire
The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung And cut a flower beside a ground bird’s… Before it stained a single human breast. The stricken flower bent double and so h… And still the bird revisited her young.
When the wind works against us in the da… And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the east, And whispers with a sort of stifled bark… The beast,
#1913 #ABoy'sWill
The play seems out for an almost infinit… Don’t mind a little thing like the actor… The only I worry about is the sun. We’ll be all right if nothing goes wrong…
Poetry is when an emotion has found its…
When I spread out my hand here today, I catch no more than a ray To feel of between thumb and fingers; No lasting effect of it lingers. There was one time and only the one
If heaven were to do again, And on the pasture bars, I leaned to line the figures in Between the dotted stars, I should be tempted to forget,
Was there even a cause too lost, Ever a cause that was lost too long, Or that showed with the lapse of time to… For the generous tears of youth and song…
When I was young my teachers were the o… I gave up fire for form till I was cold… I suffered like a metal being cast. I went to school to age to learn the pas… Now when I am old my teachers are the y…
When I see birches bend to left and rig… Across the lines of straighter darker tr… I like to think some boy’s been swinging… But swinging doesn’t bend them down to s… As ice-storms do. Often you must have…
#1916 #MountainInterval
The old dog barks backwards without gett… I can remember when he was a pup.
