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1908: 219r

Year: 1908
Hand: [E.C.]
Diary Num: XXIII
Folio Num: 219r
Manuscript Num: 46798
Transcription Status: **
Transcriber: Holly Laird

[E.C.]

praying – the place where one learns

the first few letters of the language

of that Song of Songs – the

charity of the Saints. O loved

Hospital, unknown a few months

ago!

The year has been very poor in gt.

impressions of beauty – only the

Solemnes Chant at Farnboro’

& the interior of Westminster

Cathedral at a Eucharistic Congress

High Mass & Solemn Benediction

have represented greatness in

beauty to my imagination, or

set my senses in the amber

of an impertable[?] memory.

I recall the sharp rose-light

of the little roses on the balcony

of Paragon in June that dazzled

Goscommon, & turned Gordon

Bottomly into a poet. He has

sent us verses on the Paragon,

I have made real, under Michael’s

benignity.

But no book has moved us – I

mourn over the bare walls[?]

of recollection. And, with the

exception of the strange flats of

Anglesea, Druidic & seamed with

salt channels[?] & rimmed[?] with

Exalted mountain-clouds, Earth

has not shown us any striking

beauty any more than Art.

No book has moved us, except