#AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize #1923 #NewHampshire
Oh, stormy stormy world, The days you were not swirled Around with mist and cloud, Or wrapped as in a shroud, And the sun’s brilliant ball
What things for dream there are wh… Moving amond tall haycocks lightly… I enter alone upon the stubbled fi… From which the laborers’ voices la… And in the antiphony of afterglow
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
No, I had set no prohibiting sign… And yes, my land was hardly fenced… Nevertheless the land was mine: I was being trespassed on and agai… Whoever the surly freedom took
A dented spider like a snow drop w… On a white Heal-all, holding up a… Like a white piece of lifeless sat… Saw ever curious eye so strange a… Portent in little, assorted death…
The Voice said, “Hurl her down!” The Voices, “How far down?” “Seven levels of the world.” “How much time have we?” “Take twenty years.
I let myself in at the kitchen doo… ‘It’s you,' she said. 'I can’t ge… Not answering your knock. I can n… Let people in than I can keep the… I’m getting too old for my size,…
I staid the night for shelter at a… Behind the mountain, with a mother… Two old-believers. They did all t… Mother. Folks think a witch who h… She could call up to pass a winter…
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…
Love and forgetting might have car… A little further up the mountain s… With night so near, but not much f… They must have halted soon in any… With thoughts of a path back, how…
As far as I can see this autumn h… That spreading in the evening air… Makes the new moon look anything b… And pours the elm-tree meadow full… Is all the smoke from one poor hou…
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.
Thine emulous fond flowers are dea… And the daft sun—assaulter, he That frighted thee so oft, is fled… Save only me (Nor is it sad to thee!)
I have been one acquainted with th… I have walked out in rain—and back… I have outwalked the furthest city… I have looked down the saddest cit… I have passed by the watchman on h…
Square Matthew Hale’s young graft… Began to blossom at the age of fiv… And after having entertained the b… And cast its flowers and all the s… It set itself to keep those three…