She’d have naught of silvery turnings like fish,
The Celtic knot of wedded, bedded love.
She stole away to the Arans, met a man
Not man but fearsome messenger of wish
And promises; the angel gave a shove
That slung her sideways, scotched all prior plan
And launched her on a quest for nine white deer
In a glade with streams that brimmed with watercress . . .
And there made church and convent, hives and mead,
This blessed, this raucous lady chanticleer
Announcing sun to villagers, this abbess
Who routed cattle thieves with honeybees
And cured black-hearted plague—a flight of laud
To she who chased the honeyed gold of God.
—Marly Youmans
What We’ve Been Reading—Autumn 2025
First Things staff share their most recent autumn reading recommendations.
Walker Percy’s Pilgrimage
People can get used to most anything. Even the abyss may be rendered tolerable—or, for that matter,…
Outgrowing Nostalgia in The Ballad of Wallis Island
No man is an island,” John Donne declares in his Devotions upon Emergent Occasions. The Ballad of…