And thus He is alone—for me!
* * * * *
“Then, best of lovers, I’ll draw near
Each day to minister relief.
For tho’ the thought of year on year
Of sin should make me die of grief,
Yet day by day my God I see
‘Sick and in prison’—all for me!”
Those whose imagination is without devotion, or whose devotion lacks imagination, will look upon the author of these poems as one indeed “set apart.” Yet even Dr. Newman, the giant intellect of modern thought, looked upon Keble, as he tells us himself, with awe, simply because Keble was a true religious poet; and these two came to love each other with a tenderness that did not expire, but was rather increased, when the one passed within the gates of Mother Rome, and the other, faltering in tears, sadly loitered, then suffered himself to be led away. So many a lesser Newman will learn to love this lesser and more melodious poet within the sanctuary, and his glowing soul will distribute some of its own warmth into the hospitable recesses in which this little book will find nooks the hosts never thought of.
Life of Mother Maria Teresa, Foundress of the Congregation of the Adoration of Reparation. By the Abbé Hulst. Translated by Lady Herbert. London: Burns & Oates. (For sale by The Catholic Publication Society.)