John Crowe Ransom

John Crowe Ransom (April 30, 1888 – July 3, 1974) was a southern American poet, essayist and academic. He was prominent among the Fugitives, the Southern Agrarians and the American exponents of the New Criticism.

Quotes
BLUE GIRLS, by John Crowe Ransom Twirling your blue skirts crossing the sward Under the towers of your seminary Go listen to your teachers, old and contrary Without believing a word. Tie the white filets then about your hair And think no more of what will come to pass Than bluebirds that go flying in the air Or chattering on the grass. Practice your beauty, blue girls, ere it fail, And I with my loud lips will publish Beauty that all our powers cannot establish It is so frail. For I could tell you a story which is true; I know a lady with a terrible tongue, Blear eyes fallen from blue, All her perfections tarnished-- Yet it is not long Since she was lovelier than any of you.


 * "Blue Girls", line 13, from Two Gentlemen in Bonds (1927).


 * 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.
 * "Janet Waking", line 25, from Two Gentlemen in Bonds (1927).

Chills and Fevers (1924)

 * 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.
 * "Judith of Bethulia", line 4.

by John Crowe Ransom Here lies a lady of beauty and high degree. Of chills and fever she died, of fever and chills, The delight of her husband, her aunts, an infant of three, And of medicos marveling sweetly on her ills. For either she burned, and her confident eyes would blaze-- But what was she. . .tatters. . . The fifth of these spells was her last; the cold settled down. Sweet ladies, long may ye bloom, and haply I hope may ye thole. But was she not lucky? In flowers, and lace, and mourning . . . . we bade God rest her soul, After six little spells of chill and six of burning."
 * "Here lies a lady,"

"

_________

Two evils, monstrous either one apart, Possessed me, and were long and loath at going: A cry of Absence, Absence, in the heart, And in the wood the furious winter blowing.
 * "Winter Remembered", line 1.