Poems by John Crowe Ransom
Bells For John Whiteside's Daughter
... It is no wonder her brown study Astonishes us all Her wars were bruited in our high window ...
Blue Girls
... It is so frail. For I could tell you a story which is true ...
Captain Carpenter
... And made the kites to whet their beaks clack clack ...
Conrad in Twilight
... Butter and toast are meant for pleasing! ...
Dead Boy
... The first-fruits, saith the Preacher, the Lord hath taken ...
Necrological
... Bartholomew's stroke went home -- but little it mattered, ...
Painted Head
... And best bodiness to colorify The big blue birds sitting and sea-shell cats ...
Piazza Piece
... They want the young men's whispering and sighing ...
Prelude to an Evening
... From mouth unbeautied against the pillowTo avert the gun of the same old soldier ...
The Equilibrists
... And made these lines to memorize their doom: EPITAPH Equilibrists lie here ...
Winter Remembered
... Would have this body bowed, these eyeballs streaming, ...
Two In August
... High in the trees the night-mastered birds were crying ...
Sunset
... Two people never sat like us by a fence of cedar rails ...
Prayer
... Which was her heart, all swept and white and ready ...
Miriam Tazewell
... He had weathered storms that drenched him deep as this one, ...
