Keats was a large-souled, warmhearted, altogether companionable person, but the tragedy of his death was that he did not have a chance to outgrow his youthful devotion to "poetry" - to the idea of it, I mean. You cannot devote your life to an abstraction. Indeed, life shatters all abstractions in one way or another, including words such as faith or belief. If God is not in the very fabric of your existence for you, of you do not find Him (or miss Him!) in the details of your daily life, then religion is just one more way to commit spiritual suicide.

-Christian Wiman, "Notes on Poetry and Religion"