Enduring Love/Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter

Irena Suchocki, Enduring Love (Nov. 21, 2006)

In this world of sorrows, nothing -- nothing -- is sadder than burying a child. This is a sentiment worth remembering, on Thanksgiving Day and every other day of our lives.

Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter

John Crowe Ransom, "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter," Chills and Fever (1924)

There was such speed in her little body,
And such lightness in her footfall,
It is no wonder her brown study
Astonishes us all

Her wars were bruited in our high window.
We looked among orchard trees and beyond
Where she took arms against her shadow,
Or harried unto the pond

The lazy geese, like a snow cloud
Dripping their snow on the green grass,
Tricking and stopping, sleepy and proud,
Who cried in goose, Alas,

For the tireless heart within the little
Lady with rod that made them rise
From their noon apple-dreams and scuttle
Goose-fashion under the skies!

But now go the bells, and we are ready,
In one house we are sternly stopped
To say we are vexed at her brown study,
Lying so primly propped.