#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
The Princess sings: I am the princess up in the tower And I dream the whole day thro’ Of a knight who shall come with a… And a waving plume of blue.
What do I owe to you Who loved me deep and long? You never gave my spirit wings Or gave my heart a song. But oh, to him I loved
When I talk with other men I always think of you— Your words are keener than their w… And they are gentler, too. When I look at other men,
HOW many times we must have met Here on the street as strangers do… Children of chance we were, who pa… The door of heaven and never knew.
I have loved hours at sea, gray ci… The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill,
How many million Aprils came Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be, A bed of squills, how blue. And many a dancing April
With the man I love who loves me… I walked in the street-lamps’ flar… We watched the world go home that… In a flood through Union Square. I leaned to catch the words he sai…
The April night is still and swee… With flowers on every tree; Peace comes to them on quiet feet, But not to me. My peace is hidden in his breast
I heard a cry in the night, A thousand miles it came, Sharp as a flash of light, My name, my name! It was your voice I heard,
Out of the window a sea of green t… Lift their soft boughs like the… They beckon and call me, “Come ou… But I cannot answer. I am alone with Weakness and Pain…
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…
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…
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
I gave my life to another lover, I gave my love, and all, and all— But over a dream the past will hov… Out of a dream the past will call. I tear myself from sleep with a sh…
So soon my body will have gone Beyond the sound and sight of men, And tho’ it wakes and suffers now, Its sleep will be unbroken then; But oh, my frail immortal soul