#Americans #PulitzerPrize #Suicide #Women #XXCentury
Blue dust of evening over my city, Over the ocean of roofs and the ta… Where the window-lights, myriads a… Bloom from the walls like climbing…
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…
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
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
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…
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 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
I made a hundred little songs That told the joy and pain of love… And sang them blithely, tho’ I kn… No whit thereof. I was a weaver deaf and blind;
Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children’s faces looking up,
We walked together in the dusk To watch the tower grow dimly whit… And saw it lift against the sky Its flower of amber light. You talked of half a hundred thing…
I would live in your love as the s… Borne up by each wave as it passes… I would empty my soul of the dream… I would beat with your heart as it…
A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear
I hid the love within my heart, And lit the laughter in my eyes, That when we meet he may not know My love that never dies. But sometimes when he dreams at ni…
I WATCH the great clear twiligh… Veiling the ice-bowed trees; Their branches tinkle faintly With crystal melodies. The larches bend their silver
When I go back to earth And all my joyous body Puts off the red and white That once had been so proud, If men should pass above