The object of poetry


The object of poetry is not, as is so often said, dreams, illusions or ideas. It is that holy reality, given once for all, at the centre of which we are placed. . . .A true poet has no need of larger stars or lovelier roses. The one that is there suffices him, and he knows that his own life is too short for the lesson she gives and the approval she deserves. He knows that the works of God are very good, and he asks for none other.

RECENT COLUMNS

Archives