I speak not now ‘midst awesome clouds Nor give my law on stones, For now I’ve come to be your Child In flesh and blood and bones.
We are free at last in this new age, We are free to ravage and to rage, A free press we have, a freer stage.
Listen, my heart, to the message That only hearts understand; For the depth to the depth is calling
O merchant who from distant land Came seeking pearls on earth, Hold back Thy gold, Thy silver spare For things of higher worth. For only worthless clay we give Against the price You pay. But Ah! He said, My Alchemy … Continue reading
It need not be the one, expecting to depart, The one with the ailing lungs or failing heart. Not always one engaged in a bloody strife Or one embracing danger in a ventureful life.
(This is the paper written in preparation for a talk given at the 2005 St. Benedict Center Conference.) (Saint Anthony Mary Zaccharia, July 5, 2005) The Contribution Of Catholic Letters To The Conversion Of Our Country A deepening, savored knowledge … Continue reading
(28 January 2006, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint Peter Nolasco) Forming a Catholic Resistance and Deeper Culture of the Faith in Times of Permeating Disorder: Evelyn Waugh’s Edmund Campion (1935) and Some Combatant Lessons from the Sixteenth Century The scope and … Continue reading
Pray for the fragile daughter, And the frail, infant son, Whom, at the font, the baptismal water I pour upon.
One of the few things on which most Americans will agree is that dates are not worth remembering. A typical conversation might run like this: “Oh! You’re going to college?”
Fifty-four years ago three sisters called Mary, Pauline, and Teresa spent an hour of joy in each other’s company. The youngest sister, Teresa, told tales of her childhood with such charm that the other two were captivated.
On the Sunday after Easter readers of the Washington Post were shocked and saddened by a story on the paper’s front page. It concerned a family who lived in Middletown in the Maryland countryside about 50 miles outside D.C. The … Continue reading
“I have a nausea,” said Sancho Panza, “and I believe I must write a book.” “I can think of no nausea so potent as to fit thee to write a book,” said Don Quixote, “and, since thou art my squire, … Continue reading
Born out of dust, of dust’s consistency, You start, from the immensity of night, A wisp of fluttering transparency, Glorious with willingness, this final flight.
Protesting The Unitarian Dr. Lee Is pleased he does not disagree With God on points, — perhaps two or three.