#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Now while my lips are living Their words must stay unsaid, And will my soul remember To speak when I am dead? Yet if my soul remembered
Oh, there are eyes that he can see… And hands to make his hands rejoic… But to my lover I must be Only a voice. Oh, there are breasts to bear his…
Inside the tiny Pantheon We stood together silently, Leaving the restless crowsd awhile… As ships find shelter from the sea… The ancient centuries came back
Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm, Am I to thee. More than the star to the night,
The princess has her lovers, A score of knights has she, And each can sing a madrigal, And praise her gracefully. But Love that is so bitter
When we come home at night and clo… Standing together in the shadowy r… Safe in our own love and the gentl… Glad of familiar wall and chair an… Glad to leave far below the clangi…
OH to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests
In the spring I asked the daisies If his words were true, And the clever, clear-eyed daisies Always knew. Now the fields are brown and barre…
Lyric night of the lingering Indi… Shadowy fields that are scentless… Never a bird, but the passionless… Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far-of…
Hope went by and Peace went by And would not enter in; Youth went by and Health wnt by And Love that is their kin. Those within the house shed tears
Mary sat in the corner dreaming, Dim was the room and low, While in the dusk, the saw went sc… To and fro. Jesus and Joseph toiled together,
I think the moon is very kind To take such trouble just for me. He came along with me from home To keep me company. He went as fast as I could run;
If he could know my songs are all… At silver dawn or in the evening g… Would he not smile and think it bu… If he could know? Or would his heart rejoice and ove…
It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart
I said, “My youth is gone Like a fire beaten out by the rain… That will never sway and sing Or play with the wind again.” I said, “It is no great sorrow
