#1923 #AmericanWriters #NewHampshire #PulitzerPrize
A scent of ripeness from over a wa… And come to leave the routine road And look for what had made me stal… There sure enough was an apple tre… That had eased itself of its summe…
She drew back; he was calm: “It is this that had the power.” And he lashed his open palm With the tender-headed flower. He smiled for her to smile,
ONCE on the kind of day called “… When the heat slowly hazes and the… By its own power seems to be undon… I was half boring through, half cl… A swamp of cedar. Choked with oil…
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…
Pan came out of the woods one day,…
‘Fred, where is north?’ ‘North? North is there, my love. The brook runs west.’ ‘West—running Brook then call it.… (West—Running Brook men call it t…
Let the downpour roil and toil! The worst it can do to me Is carry some garden soil A little nearer the sea. ’Tis the world-old way of the rain
The living come with grassy tread To read the gravestones on the hil… The graveyard draws the living sti… But never anymore the dead. The verses in it say and say:
It is getting dark and time he dre… But the blizzard blinds him to any… The storm gets down his neck in an… That sucks his breath like a wicke… The snow blows on him and off him,…
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…
To drive Paul out of any lumber c… All that was needed was to say to… ‘How is the wife, Paul?’- and he’… Some said it was because be bad no… And hated to be twitted on the sub…
We dance round in a ring and suppo… But the Secret sits in the middle…
Grief may have thought it was grie… Care may have thought it was care. They were welcome to their belief, The overimportant pair. No, it took all the snows that clu…
The battle rent a cobweb diamond—s… And cut a flower beside a ground b… Before it stained a single human b… The stricken flower bent double an… And still the bird revisited her y…
When I see birches bend to left a… Across the lines of straighter dar… I like to think some boy’s been sw… But swinging doesn’t bend them dow… As ice-storms do. Often you must…