Having checked out his collected poems from my public library, I got a chance to read a short biography of this remarkable poet, the value of which biography is that it was written in 1929 by a man who knew Lanier and his wife. Sydney Lanier had one of those short and heartbreaking artistic lives. He was descended from an illustrious line founded by artists and courtiers; his family had been present in America since the early 1700’s. His father was a lawyer who somewhat discouraged Sydney from his first… Read more The Chrystal, by Sydney Lanier – with some biographical and critical notes →
A song for today. A friend of mine, a priest’s wife, sent this to me. It’s a wonderful setting and the words are in English!
What song can I sing? I have not a word to say; Full of emptiness, in wordless prayers I pray toward formless forms and heatless burnings toward Flyers In The Heaven without wing and know – it is not You! You are not these! O! (Whom shall I address?) To what bright center shall I press, and truly say: Ah, it is You! At last? (When will I be strong enough to grip you fast?) Should I form pictures in my mind? And say: this homely glow upon these yellow leaves, this pale pink… Read more A Very Poor Effort →
Last night I stood in the porch of heaven. Angels were singing to the Mother who bore God about what a wonderful occasion it was when she first entered the Temple: the vessel prepared for the Lord’s entrance into our world had come at last to the holy place, a foreshadowing of his soon coming. “The Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to his Temple.” I stood respectfully in the back since I had entered late. The stiffness in my back disappeared as I took my place next to dear St. Nicholas,… Read more Congregating on the Porch →
Slow Literature 