Once I would have started this by quoting "It is an ancient Mariner, and he stoppeth one of three" but times have changed, and I with them. Instead, perhaps the least-appreciated Pulitzer prize winner last century: Edna St Vincent Millay.
Despite being the first woman to win the Pulitzer for poetry, and being celebrated (perhaps notorious is a better word - having an open marriage, being publicly bisexual, feminist, pro-America leading up to WWII, and generally scornful of public norms did nothing for her career) in her day, she is almost unknown now.
I have trouble picking one, and some are short, so let me quote a couple from
A Few Figs from Thistles:
FIRST FIG
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!
SECOND FIG
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!
THURSDAY
And if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday--
So much is true.
And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what
Is that to me?
Sonnet III
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow!
Faithless am I save to love's self alone.
Were you not lovely I would leave you now:
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
Were you not still my hunger's rarest food,
And water ever to my wildest thirst,
I would desert you--think not but I would!--
And seek another as I sought you first.
But you are mobile as the veering air,
And all your charms more changeful than the tide,
Wherefore to be inconstant is no care:
I have but to continue at your side.
So wanton, light and false, my love, are you,
I am most faithless when I most am true.