Richard Crashaw

Whoe'er she be,
That not impossible
That shall command my heart and me:
Where'er she lie,

Thou water turn'st to wine, fair friend of life,        Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of thy reign,    Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife,        And so turns wine to water back again

Persuading her to resolution in religion, and
Render herself without further delay into the Communion of the Catholic
What Heaven-entreated heart is this,
Stands trembling at the gate of bliss

WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,    Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw Thine eyes break from the East,    And chase the trembling shades away:
We saw Thee, and we blest the sight,
We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light

Below the bottom of the great Abyss,
There where one centre reconciles all things,
The world's profound heart pants; there placed
Mischief's old Master

Two mites, two drops, yet all her house and land,
Fall from a steady heart, though trembling hand :
The other's wanton wealth foams high, and brave ;
The other cast away, she only gave

LO here a little volume, but great Book A nest of new-born sweets; Whose native fires disdaining To ly thus folded, and complaining Of these ignoble sheets, Affect more comly bands (Fair one) from the kind hands And confidently look To find the re...

Two went to pray
O rather say   One went to brag, th' other to pray:    One stands up close and treads on high,   Where th' other dares not send his eye
One nearer to God's altar trod,   The other to the altar's God

Love's Sacrifice, and the Broken Heart
Thou cheat'st us,
Ford, mak'st one seem two by art ;
What is love's sacrifice but the broken heart

ME, we shepherds whose blest sight Hath met Love's noon in Nature's night ; Come lift up our loftier song,
And wake the sun that lies too long
To all our world of well-stol'n joy He slept, and dreamt of no such thing,
While we found...

Know you, fair, on what you look
Divinest love lies in this book,
Expecting fire from your eyes,
To kindle this His sacrifice

Hail, sister springs,
Parents of silver-footed rills
Ever bubbling things,
Thawing crystal, snowy hills

Now westward Sol had spent the richest
Of noon's high glory, when, hard by the
Of Tiber, on the scene of a green plat,
Under protection of an oak, there satA sweet lute's master :  in whose gentle

O
OU undaunted daughter of desires
By all thy dower of lights and fires;
By all the eagle in thee, all the dove;

I would be married, but I'd have no wife ;
I would be married to a single life

Each blest drop on each blest limb,    Is wash't itself, in washing Him :'Tis a gem while it stays here ;    While it falls hence 'tis a tear