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 ...
I VIEWED him well, the visible fat fool, And yet I took him in; for I contended, Friends are not sent in ...
AT last came threshing-time, the manly season. We kept the thresher thundering by daylight, And rested all the sweeter after dark, Telling of ...
JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas,Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ringTo run as boys and ...
I SAT in a friendly company And wagged my wicked tongue so well, My friends were listening close to hear The wickedest tales ...
BY night we looked across my field, The tasseled corn was fine to see, The moon was yellow on the rows And seemed ...
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