#1923 #AmericanWriters #NewHampshire #PulitzerPrize
I stay; But it isn’t as if There wasn’t always Hudson’s Bay And the fur trade, A small skiff
We asked for rain. It didn’t flas… It didn’t lose its temper at our d… And blow a gale. It didn’t misund… And give us more than our spokesma… And just because we owned to a wis…
Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise
A winter garden in an alder swamp, Where conies now come out to sun a… As near a paradise as it can be And not melt snow or start a dorma… It lifts existence on a plane of s…
If this uncertain age in which we… Were really as dark as I hear sag… And I convinced that they were re… I should not curse myself with it… But leaving not the chair I long…
I had withdrawn in forest, and my… Was swallowed up in leaves that bl… And to the forest edge you came on… (This was my dream) and looked and… But did not enter, though the wish…
He is that fallen lance that lies… That lies unlifted now, come dew,… But still lies pointed as it ploug… If we who sight along it round the… See nothing worthy to have been it…
`You know Orion always comes up s… Throwing a leg up over our fence o… And rising on his hands, he looks… Busy outdoors by lantern—light wit… I should have done by daylight, an…
When the wind works against us in… And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the e… And whispers with a sort of stifle… The beast,
I slumbered with your poems on my… Spread open as I dropped them hal… Like dove wings on a figure on a t… To see, if in a dream they brought… I might not have the chance I mis…
Never ask of money spent Where the spender thinks it went. Nobody was ever meant To remember or invent What he did with every cent.
All crying, ‘We will go with you,… The foliage follow him, leaf and s… But a sleep oppresses them as they… And they end by bidding them as th… And they end by bidding him stay w…
On glossy wires artistically bent, He draws himself up to his full ex… His natty wings with self-assuranc… His stinging quarters menacingly w… Poor egotist, he has no way of kno…
If heaven were to do again, And on the pasture bars, I leaned to line the figures in Between the dotted stars, I should be tempted to forget,
A dented spider like a snow drop w… On a white Heal-all, holding up a… Like a white piece of lifeless sat… Saw ever curious eye so strange a… Portent in little, assorted death…