The swift perched, tweeting like a petty tyrant,
Ruffling the feathers of self-love and power,
And dropped his siftings on a fire hydrant
To show the under-world, from hour to hour,
All things of grace, necessity, and toil
Were eyed by him and subject to his spoil.
—James Matthew Wilson
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE
Pope and President Tangle
In April, the Holy Father and the president of the United States traded barbs. The proximate cause…
While We’re At It
In Palm Sunday reflections posted on his website, Coram Fratribus, Bishop Erik Varden observes: In the Saint…
Letters—June/July 2026
The sentimental images painted of proud, tight-knit communities slowly crumbling away are compelling, but I have to…
