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
Grandmother, What Big Teeth You Have
Many years ago, I wrote a piece for this magazine called “Grim Tales.” At the time, I…
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In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, Theodore Dalrymple joins…
Lethe
He thought he saw her in the orchid house / and all the flowers seemed to disappear...