#1936 #AFurtherRange #AmericanWriters #PulitzerPrize
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…
It is blue-butterfly day here in s… And with these sky-flakes down in… There is more unmixed color on the… Than flowers will show for days un… But these are flowers that fly and…
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…
The mountain held the town as in a… I saw so much before I slept ther… I noticed that I missed stars in… Where its black body cut into the… Near me it seemed: I felt it like…
A breeze discovered my open book And began to flutter the leaves to… For a poem there used to be on Sp… I tried to tell her “There’s no s… For whom would a poem on Spring b…
Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf.
An ant on the tablecloth Ran into a dormant moth Of many times his size. He showed not the least surprise. His business wasn’t with such.
The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to ocean— Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.
It was long I lay Awake that night Wishing that night Would name the hour And tell me whether
When we locked up the house at nig… We always locked the flowers outsi… And cut them off from window light… The time I dreamed the door was t… And brushed with buttons upon slee…
Roll stones down on our head! You squat old pyramid, Your last good avalanche Was long since slid. Your top has sunk too low,
Four or five whippoorwills Have come down from their native l… To the open country edge To give us a piece of their bills. Two in June were a pair—
The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold… When shoeing home across the white… I thought I saw a bird alight. In summer when I passed the place
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the hou… Like a pistil after the petals go The barn opposed across the way,
But Islands of the Blessèd, bless… I never came upon a blessèd one.