Friday, 30 March 2012
Poem for Anne, Countess of Arundel
St. Robert Southwell, poet and martyr, became chaplain to Anne Dacre, Countess of
Arundel. Recently, I discovered that she was a poet in her own right. I have written a poem about her, and here it is.
Poem on Anne Dacre Howard March 29th, 2012
Woman of youth, married in unlove, but learning
the ways of God through countless sorrows
and the movement of uncertainty
Lady, who lived and wrote without comfort
like a small animal hidden in a field of corn
unable to reach the grain for her children
How are we to understand your incessant
wanderings, your loss of home and honor
covenanted to the old Church, the Pope
and the glory of Rome? Those who rest
in peace wonder at your persistence of
memory and kindness, wonder at
the love for the sick and the poor
when you yourself suffered such
and did not mind the memory?
Woman of Faith, who lost her found
love too early, fought stories and fables
who was told lies, but understood
the treachery of the times to translate
hatred into love and propaganda
into prayer. We, who are gasping
for breath in a new age of disturbing
hatred of the good, look to you for
guidance and intercession.
Anne, whose son never saw his
father and whose husband never
saw his son, but embraced the Son
of God, and a title of immortality
for fading riches, Anne, remember
us in our complacency and help
us to gather our wits, to be ready
in poverty or loss of self in order
to be Church Militant.
Anne Howard, pray for us.
Arundel. Recently, I discovered that she was a poet in her own right. I have written a poem about her, and here it is.
Poem on Anne Dacre Howard March 29th, 2012
Woman of youth, married in unlove, but learning
the ways of God through countless sorrows
and the movement of uncertainty
Lady, who lived and wrote without comfort
like a small animal hidden in a field of corn
unable to reach the grain for her children
How are we to understand your incessant
wanderings, your loss of home and honor
covenanted to the old Church, the Pope
and the glory of Rome? Those who rest
in peace wonder at your persistence of
memory and kindness, wonder at
the love for the sick and the poor
when you yourself suffered such
and did not mind the memory?
Woman of Faith, who lost her found
love too early, fought stories and fables
who was told lies, but understood
the treachery of the times to translate
hatred into love and propaganda
into prayer. We, who are gasping
for breath in a new age of disturbing
hatred of the good, look to you for
guidance and intercession.
Anne, whose son never saw his
father and whose husband never
saw his son, but embraced the Son
of God, and a title of immortality
for fading riches, Anne, remember
us in our complacency and help
us to gather our wits, to be ready
in poverty or loss of self in order
to be Church Militant.
Anne Howard, pray for us.