Saturday, June 13, 2009

La Sainte Chappelle, Paris

(via Inside Catholic)

Sonnet to the Virgin

by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied;
Woman! above all women glorified,
Our tainted nature's solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daylight strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast;
Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in Thee
Of mother's love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!

Friday, June 12, 2009


except in your
my loveliest,
may move may rest
--you bring

(out of dark the
procession of
huger than prove
our fears

were hopes:the moon
for you and close
will shy
wings of because;
each why

of star(afloat
on not
quite less than all
of time)
gives you skilful
his flame

so is your heart
of languages
there's none
but well she knows;
and can

perfectly speak
and rainbow mind
and soul
november and

who younger than
are,the worlds move
in your
(and rest,my love)

Sonnet of Black Beauty

by Lord Herbert of Cherbury (1583-1648)

Black beauty, which above that common light,
Whose Power can no colours here renew
But those which darkness can again subdue,
Dost still remain unvary'd to the sight,
And like an object equal to the view,
Are neither chang'd with day, nor hid with night;
When all these colours which the world call bright,
And which old Poetry doth so persue,
Are with the night so perishèd and gone,
That of their being there remains no mark,
Thou still abidest so intirely one,
That we may know thy blackness is a spark
Of light inaccessible and alone
Our darkness which can make us think it dark.

The Call

by George Herbert (1593-1633)

Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath;
Such a Truth, as ends all strife;
And such a Life, as killeth death.

Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light, as shows a feast;
Such a Feast, as mends in length;
Such a Strength, as makes his guest.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy, as none can move;
Such a Love, as none can part;
Such a Heart, as joys in love.


God does not give Himself to a chattering soul which, like a drone in a beehive, buzzes about but gathers no honey. A talkative soul is empty inside.

Saint Faustina Kowalska

dark speech on hiatus?

Maybe. I haven't decided yet. But am not happy with the directionlessness of this blog. Its happy miscellaneity can get a little silly and wearisome at times (perhaps not to the few loyal readers, but certainly to the author).

I would continue blogging at phos hilaron, my blog emphasizing the treasures of Eastern Christianity.

As for this blog, who knows? I might find something vital that captures my attention later today or tomorrow, and begin blogging again with vigor, and renounce all thoughts of suspending the effort. But there are times when it does seem wise to slow down a bit.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

another YouTube

Five minutes of jazz with the Scola Tristano trio, featuring Fr Stan Fortuna CFR on (I think) bass guitar.