Poems by John Crowe Ransom
The Ingrate
... "Your moon shines very well, my friend, ...
Noonday Grace
... " Like mother, he finds it his greatest joy ...
The Bachelor
... She brushed the yard, she brushed the step, ...
Judith Of Bethulia
... And the chieftains head, with grinning sockets, and varnished ...
November
... But the pot sings back just as shrill as it can, ...
The Lover
... Do they not hear the burst of bells, ...
Romance Of A Youngest Daughter
... Desirée (of a mothers christening) never shall wed ...
An American Addresses Philomela
... She has even appeared to the Teutons, the swilled and gravid ...
By The Riverside
... A clean blue air for his breathing-space, ...
April
... That mounted once from these emaciate minstrels ...
Janet Waking
... Who would have kissed each curl of his shining baby ...
Roses
... I blessed the heart that wished me well ...
One Who Rejects Christ
... Should scratch out the hay and tickle their noses ...
The Power Of God
... "And one was so heavy with sleep that she watched not, and slept ...
Street Light
... There's light enough, and strong enough, ...
