John Crowe Ransom Quotes

A boy not beautiful, nor good, nor clever, A black cloud full of storms too hot for keeping, A sword beneath his mother's heart— yet never Woman bewept her babe as this is weeping.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Dead Boy (l. 5-8). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
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But this was the old tree's late branch wrenched away, Grieving the sapless limbs, the shorn and shaken.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Dead Boy (l. 19-20). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
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Sweet ladies, long may ye bloom, and toughly I hope ye may thole, But was she not lucky? In flowers and lace and mourning, In love and great honor we bade God rest her soul After six little spaces of chill, and six of burning.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Here Lies a Lady (l. 13-16). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
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Now the poor comb stood up straight But Chucky did not.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Janet Waking (l. 19-20). . . Oxford Book of Death, The. D. J. Enright, ed. (1987) Oxford University Press.
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It was a transmogrifying bee Came droning down on Chucky's old bald head And sat and put the poison. It scarcely bled,
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Janet Waking (l. 13-15). . . Oxford Book of Death, The. D. J. Enright, ed. (1987) Oxford University Press.
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And weeping fast as she had breath Janet implored us, 'Wake her from her sleep!' And would not be instructed in how deep Was the forgetful kingdom of death.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Janet Waking (l. 25-28). . . Oxford Book of Death, The. D. J. Enright, ed. (1987) Oxford University Press.
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For even within his tent she accomplished his derision; She loosed one veil and another, standing unafraid; And he perished.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Judith of Bethulia (l. 27-29). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
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And the chieftain's head, with grinning sockets, and varnished— Is it hung on the sky with a hideous epitaphy? No, the woman keeps the trophy.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Judith of Bethulia (l. 34-36). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
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And a wandering beauty is a blade out of its scabbard. You know how dangerous, gentlemen of threescore? May you know it yet ten more.
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Judith of Bethulia (l. 4-6). . . Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, The. Richard Ellmann and Robert O'Clair, eds. (2d ed., 1988) W. W. Norton & Company.
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This morning, there flew up the lane A timid lady-bird to our bird-bath And eyed her image dolefully as death;
John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974), U.S. poet. Lady Lost (l. 1-3). . . Modern American & British Poetry. Louis Untermeyer, ed., in consultation with Karl Shapiro and Richard Wilbur. (Rev., shorter ed., 1955) Harcourt, Brace and Company.
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