Deep in the country of unbroken clouds,
The sundry broken crowds
Have wondered for unnumbered years what lies
Beyond their numbed gray skies.
Some have spun rumors, flimsy as wet straw”
A peasant weaver saw
Twilled clouds unravel and a golden reed
Spike earthward at the speed
Of light; a crippled beggar glimpsed bright alms
Ripple through limpid calms
In cloud-patched sky; a farmer, his untilled
Acres before him, filled
With joy at sunlit fields of uncracked blue”
But crack-downs brought them to
Their senses, down to earth, and back to wonder
Under the reign of thunder.
Newman Against Compromise
On November 1, St. John Henry Newman will be declared a Doctor of the Church—an announcement that…
Charles Murray Comes to God (ft. Charles Murray)
In the latest installment of the ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein, Charles Murray joins…
Canterbury Fails
When it was announced in October that the next archbishop of Canterbury would be a woman with…