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The Soldier

IF I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is forever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England’s, breathing…

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

And indeed there will be time To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?” Here’s an annotated version and recording of Eliot himself reading this perplexing and disturbing poem. The poem, described as a “drama of literary anguish”, is a dramatic interior monologue of an urban man, stricken with feelings of isolation and an incapability…

Eliot and Swinburne: Idealism and Decedence

Eliot and Swinburne have been part of my consciousness for many years but for different reasons. The former I primarily knew for his Knowledge and Experience in the Philosophy of F. H. Bradley (his Harvard dissertation) and the for latter, my curiosity was piqued through my walking regularly past 11 Putney Hill, Sw15 on my way to…

A. E. HOUSMAN

I’ve always described Housman’s intellect as akin to “wrestling with razor blades” as least in his classical scholarship. I chanced upon the The Housman Society which I’m pleased to see has been ticking along for almost 40 years. My first exposure to AEH’s austere intellect was through Gow’s A. E. Housman: A Sketch Together with a List of…

A Disposition of Delight

My chum and the new president of the Michael Oakeshott Association, Elizabeth Corey, has just had this article published in First Things. Since this article is by subscription, I will only post a couple of extracts that caught my eye. Elizabeth is an excellent scholar whose chapter entitled “The Religious Sensibility of Michael Oakeshott” will be…