#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
We chanced in passing by that afte… To catch it in a sort of special p… Among tar-banded ancient cherry tr… Set well back from the road in ran… The little cottage we were speakin…
Spades take up leaves No better than spoons, And bags full of leaves Are light as balloons. I make a great noise
There were three in the meadow by… Gathering up windrows, piling hayc… With an eye always lifted toward t… Where an irregular, sun-bordered c… Darkly advanced with a perpetual d…
Was there even a cause too lost, Ever a cause that was lost too lon… Or that showed with the lapse of t… For the generous tears of youth an…
Age saw two quiet children Go loving by at twilight, He knew not whether homeward, Or outward from the village, Or (chimes were ringing) churchwar…
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…
Lancaster bore him—such a little t… Such a great man. It doesn’t see… Of late years, though he keeps the… And sends the children down there… To run wild in the summer—a little…
Pan came out of the woods one day,…
There overtook me and drew me in To his down-hill, early-morning st… And set me five miles on my road Better than if he had had me ride, A man with a swinging bag for’load
The three stood listening to a fre… Of wind that caught against the ho… Gulped snow, and then blew free ag… Dressed, but dishevelled from some… Meserve belittled in the great ski…
It went many years, But at last came a knock, And I thought of the door With no lock to lock. I blew out the light,
If tires of trees I seek again mankind, Well I know where to hie me—in the dawn, To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn. There amid loggin juniper reclined, Myself unseen, I see in w...
Some of you will be glad I did wh… And the rest won’t want to punish… For finding a thing to do that tho… Yet wasn’t enjoined and wasn’t exp… To punish me over cruelly wouldn’t…
Others taunt me with having knelt… Always wrong to the light, so neve… Deeper down in the well than where… Gives me back in a shining surface… Me myself in the summer heaven god…
The well was dry beside the door, And so we went with pail and can Across the fields behind the house To seek the brook if still it ran; Not loth to have excuse to go,