Noonday Grace (John Crowe Ransom Poems)
MY good old father tucked his head, (His face the color of gingerbread) Over the table my mother had spread, And folded his ...
MY good old father tucked his head, (His face the color of gingerbread) Over the table my mother had spread, And folded his ...
JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas,Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ringTo run as boys and ...
By night they haunted a thicket of April mist,Out of that black ground suddenly come to birth,Else angels lost in ...
So he took her as anointedIn the part he had appointed,She was lips for smiling faintly,Eyes to look and level ...
By dark severance the apparition head Smiles from the air a capital on no Column or a Platonic perhaps head ...
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