#1942 #AmericanWriters #AWitnessTree #PulitzerPrize
What things for dream there are wh… Moving amond tall haycocks lightly… I enter alone upon the stubbled fi… From which the laborers’ voices la… And in the antiphony of afterglow
By June our brook’s run out of so… Sought for much after that, it wil… Either to have gone groping underg… (And taken with it all the Hyla b… That shouted in the mist a month a…
Builder, in building the little ho… In every way you may please yourse… But please please me in the kitche… Don’t build me a chimney upon a sh… However far you must go for bricks…
My long two-pointed ladder’s stick… Toward heaven still. And there’s a barrel that I didn’… Beside it, and there may be two or… Apples I didn’t pick upon some bo…
I have been one acquainted with th… I have walked out in rain—and back… I have outwalked the furthest city… I have looked down the saddest cit… I have passed by the watchman on h…
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…
Thus of old the Douglas did: He left his land as he was bid With the royal heart of Robert th… In a golden case with a golden lid… To carry the same to the Holy Lan…
“When I was just as far as I coul… From here today, There was an hour All still When leaning with my head against…
NOW that they’ve got it settled w… I’m going to tell them something t… They’ve got it settled wrong, and… Flattered I must be to have two t… To make a present of me to each ot…
I staid the night for shelter at a… Behind the mountain, with a mother… Two old-believers. They did all t… The Mother Folks think a witch who has famili…
Careless and still The hunter lurks With gun depressed, Facing alone The alder swamps
Will the blight end the chestnut? The farmers rather guess not. It keeps smouldering at the roots And sending up new shoots Till another parasite
A bird half wakened in the lunar n… Sang half way through its little i… Partly because it sang but once al… And that from no especial bush’s h… Partly because it sang ventriloqui…
Love and forgetting might have car… A little further up the mountain s… With night so near, but not much f… They must have halted soon in any… With thoughts of a path back, how…
Two roads diverged in a yellow woo… And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I c… To where it bent in the undergrowt…