#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
I am not sorry for my soul That it must go unsatisfied, For it can live a thousand times, Eternity is deep and wide. I am not sorry for my soul,
Infinite gentleness, infinite iron… Are in this face with fast-sealed… And round this mouth that learned… How useless their wisdom is to the… In her nun’s habit carved, careful…
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 I have sown my love so wide That he will find it everywhere; It will awake him in the night, It will enfold him in the air. I set my shadow in his sight
Oh you are coming, coming, coming, How will hungry Time put by the h… But why does it anger my heart to… For one man out of the world of me… Oh I would live in myself only
Oh Loves there are that enter in, And Loves there are that wait, And Loves that sit a-weeping Whose joy will come too late. For some there be that ope their d…
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…
They said he sent his love to me, They wouldn’t put it in my hand, And when I asked them where it wa… They said I couldn’t understand. I thought they must have hidden it…
If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go… Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow. Or back to oak trees in the spring
The beast to the beast is calling, And the soul bends down to wait; Like the stealthy lord of the jung… The white man calls his mate. The beast to the beast is calling,
IN the silver light after a storm… Under dripping boughs of bright ne… I take the low path to hear the me… Alone and high-hearted as if I we… What have I to fear in life or de…
Oh if I were the velvet rose Upon the red rose vine, I’d climb to touch his window And make his casement fine. And if I were the little bird
WHEN they see my songs They will sigh and say, ‘Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day.’ They will never know
The kings they came from out the s… All dressed in ermine fine; They bore Him gold and chrysopras… And gifts of precious wine. The shepherds came from out the no…
Dreamily over the roofs The cold spring rain is falling, Out in the lonely tree A bird is calling, calling. Slowly over the earth