#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
We held the book together timidly, Whose antique music in an alien to… Once rose among the dew-drenched v… Beneath a high Castilian balcony. I felt the lute strings’ ancient e…
I gave my first love laughter, I gave my second tears, I gave my third love silence Thru all the years. My first love gave me singing,
Across the dimly lighted room The violin drew wefts of sound, Airily they wove and wound And glimmered gold against the glo… I watched the music turn to light,
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
I thought of you and how you love… And walking up the long beach all… I heard the waves breaking in meas… As you and I once heard their mon… Around me were the echoing dunes,…
Impassioned singer of the happy ti… When all the world was waking into… And dew still glistened on the tan… And lingered on the branches of th… Oh peerless singer of the golden r…
Rose, when I remember you, Little lady, scarcely two, I am suddenly aware Of the angels in the air. All your softly gracious ways
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
Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending
God let me listen to your voice, And look upon you for a space— And then he took your voice away, And dropped a veil before your fac… God let me look within your eyes,
She is too kind, I think, for mor… Too gentle for the gusty ways of e… God gave to her a shy and silver m… And made her soul as clear And softly singing as an orchard s…
The roofs are shining from the rai… The sparrows tritter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back-yards are bare and br…
Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…
There is no magic any more, We meet as other people do, You work no miracle for me Nor I for you. You were the wind and I the sea -
Brown Thrush singing all day long In the leaves above me, Take my love this little song, “Love me, love me, love me!” When he harkens what you say,