John Crowe Ransom(1888–1974)

Lady Lost

This morning, flew up the lane

A timid lady bird to our birdbath

And eyed her image dolefully as death;

This afternoon, knocked on our windowpane

To be let in from the rain.

And when I caught her eye

She looked aside, but at the clapping thunder

And sight of the whole world blazing up like tinder

Looked in on us again so miserably

It was as if she would cry.

So I will go out into the park and say,

"Who has lost a delicate brown-eyed lady

In the West End section Or has anybody

Injured some fine woman in some dark way

Last night, or yesterday

"Let the owner come and claim possession,

No questions will be asked. But stroke her gently

With loving words, and she will evidently

Return to her full soft-haired white-breasted fashion

And her right home and her right passion.