#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
I hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me,
He said: “In the winter dusk When the pavements were gleaming w… I walked thru a dingy street Hurried, harassed,
The wide, bright temple of the wor… And entered from the dizzy infinit… That I might kneel and worship th… Leaving the singing stars their ce… Of silver music sound on orbed sou…
I lift my heart as spring lifts up A yellow daisy to the rain; My heart will be a lovely cup Altho’ it holds but pain. For I shall learn from flower and…
Crisply the bright snow whispered, Crunching beneath our feet; Behind us as we walked along the p… Our shadows danced, Fantastic shapes in vivid blue.
Your mind and mine are such great… Have freed themselves from cautiou… And on wild clouds of thought, nak… They ride above us in extreme deli… We see them, we look up with a lon…
The darkened street was muffled wi… The falling flakes had made your s… And when we found a shelter from t… Its glamor fell upon us like a blo… The clash of dishes and the viol a…
Beside an ebbing northern sea While stars awaken one by one, We walk together, I and he. He woos me with an easy grace That proves him only half sincere;
THE world is resting without soun… Behind the apple tree the sun goes… Painting with fire the spires and… In the elm-shaded town. Beyond the calm Connecticut the h…
One by one, like leaves from a tre… All my faiths have forsaken me; But the stars above my head Burn in white and delicate red, And beneath my feet the earth
I cannot die, who drank delight From the cup of the crescent moon, And hungrily as men eat bread, Loved the scented nights of June. The rest may die—but is there not
Willow in your April gown Delicate and gleaming, Do you mind in years gone by All my dreaming? Spring was like a call to me
I must have passed the crest a whi… And now I am going down— Strange to have crossed the crest… But the brambles were always grabb… All the morning I thought how pro…
My heart is heavy with many a song Like ripe fruit bearing down the t… But I can never give you one— My songs do not belong to me. Yet in the evening, in the dusk
Was ever any face like this before… So light a veiling for the soul wi… So pure and yet so pitiful for sin… They say the soul will pass the H… And yearning upward, learn creatio…
