Breathing,
we go blind
to what exists—whole universes!—
right here, next to us.
to what exists—whole universes!—
right here, next to us.
Christopher Ricks reminded us nearly forty
years ago in Keats and Embarrassment, John “always made an awkward bow”...
…But what of…Gerard
Hopkins? Is it not an appallment for
heaven and earth that so little is being done for him? Here is a writer emancipated from time and
tradition. Here is a Prophet, a Martyr,
and an Apostle who is at the same time a Poet….[and a Priest]…
[5. Unsigned review of Bregy’s The Poet’s Chantry,
Month October 1912, p.439]
….
Fr. George O’Neill, SJ (1863-1947), was Professor of English
Language at University College,
Dublin….his later comments were
more favorable (see no. 24). Studies…
…Father Hopkins’ is a
tiny harp indeed, and one which was very rarely handled with deftness. It seems strange that judging ears should be
excited to any rapture by what she gives us to hear of its notes. To us most of her specimens of this writer
seem curiously cacophonous…
