Tag Archives: poetry

Dream: Advent Word 18

Psalm 126 A Song of Ascents 1 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, then were we like those who dream. 2 Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy. 3 Then they … Continue reading

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Paradox: Advent Word 13

Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit—Divine Subcommittee for Selection of Advent Words—are having a good chuckle as they watch from on high the consternation of avid participants in their program, all of whom are scratching our heads as we ponder … Continue reading

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Wait without Hope: Advent Word 9

At a loss for words In truth, today’s official Advent Word is herald. However, other than a vain effort at wordplay because of the homophonic association with my father’s name, Harold, I could think of nothing original to offer for this … Continue reading

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Wind: Advent Word 1

Christina Rossetti, the fervent proponent of High Anglicanism who gave us #112 in the Episcopal hymnal, the haunting carol “In the Bleak Midwinter,” also wrote the brief poem below, often anthologized for children: Who has seen the wind? Neither I … Continue reading

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Wonder: My New Year’s Resolution

Among the saddest lines in literature are the ones with which Nick Carraway describes his last glance at the sprawling estate on Long Island from which Gatsby watched the green light on Daisy’s dock: As the moon rose higher the … Continue reading

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Time: Advent Word 3

Today, I will borrow my contribution from”Burnt Norton,” first of the Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot, my acknowledged maestro in all things Anglican. Whenever I ponder the word time, it is this poem that informs my musings: Time present and time past Are … Continue reading

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The Mother of Beauty: World War I in Word, Image, and Song

Published below is the text of a talk I will give tomorrow to commemorate the Armistice centenary as part of a series of events entitled “FTCC Remembers World War I: 1914-1918.” “Death is the mother of beauty,” wrote Wallace Stevens, … Continue reading

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One Doomed Youth–and 17 Million More

From July to November 1917, Wilfred Edward Salter Owen was a shell-shocked second lieutenant in the Manchester Regiment, under the care of W. H. R. Rivers at Craiglockhart War Hospital. There, he became close friends with Siegfried Sassoon, who became … Continue reading

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Ennui; or, The Cat Who Read Mallarmé

La chair est triste, hélas! et j’ai lu tous les livres. [The flesh is sad, alas! and I have read all the books.]

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The Mother of Beauty: War in Words and Music

For the past two years, I have immersed myself in a personal and professional commemoration of the centenary of World War I. For a freshman composition class I designed in writing across the curriculum, I have read extensively in the … Continue reading

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