#AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize #1916 #MountainInterval
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…
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…
Over back where they speak of life… ('You couldn’t call it living, for… There was an old, old house renewe… And in it a piano loudly playing. Out in the plowed ground in the co…
I didn’t make you know how glad I… To have you come and camp here on… promised myself to get down some d… And see the way you lived, but I… With a houseful of hungry men to f…
Lovers, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil
A head thrusts in as for the view, But where it is it thrusts in from Or what it is it thrusts into By that Cyb’laean avenue, And what can of its coming come,
Will the blight end the chestnut? The farmers rather guess not. It keeps smouldering at the roots And sending up new shoots Till another parasite
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
A stolen lady was coming on board, But whether stolen from her wedded… Or from her own self against her w… Was not set forth in the lading bi… A stolen lady was all it said.
As gay for you to take your father… As take his gun—rod—to go hunting—… You nick my spruce until its fiber… It gives up standing straight and… You link an arm in its arm and you…
ONCE on the kind of day called “… When the heat slowly hazes and the… By its own power seems to be undon… I was half boring through, half cl… A swamp of cedar. Choked with oil…
`You know Orion always comes up s… Throwing a leg up over our fence o… And rising on his hands, he looks… Busy outdoors by lantern—light wit… I should have done by daylight, an…
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…
Come with rain, O loud Southweste… Bring the singer, bring the nester… Give the buried flower a dream; Make the settled snow—bank steam; Find the brown beneath the white;
The battle rent a cobweb diamond—s… And cut a flower beside a ground b… Before it stained a single human b… The stricken flower bent double an… And still the bird revisited her y…