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Best Famous Richard Crashaw Poems

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by Richard Crashaw | |

Prayer

 I ASK good things that I detest,
With speeches fair;
Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my breast,
But hear my prayer.
I say ill things I would not say - Things unaware: Regard my breast, Lord, in Thy day, And not my prayer.
My heart is evil in Thy sight: My good thoughts flee: O Lord, I cannot wish aright - Wish Thou for me.
O bend my words and acts to Thee, However ill, That I, whate'er I say or be, May serve Thee still.
O let my thoughts abide in Thee Lest I should fall: Show me Thyself in all I see, Thou Lord of all.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Prayer

 LET us leave our island woods grown dim and blue;
O’er the waters creeping the pearl dust of the eve
Hides the silver of the long wave rippling through:
 The chill for the warm room let us leave.
Turn the lamp down low and draw the curtain wide, So the greyness of the starlight bathes the room; Let us see the giant face of night outside, Though vague as a moth’s wing is the gloom.
Rumour of the fierce-pulsed city far away Breaks upon the peace that aureoles our rest, Steeped in stillness as if some primeval day Hung drowsily o’er the water’s breast.
Shut the eyes that flame and hush the heart that burns: In quiet we may hear the old primeval cry: God gives wisdom to the spirit that upturns: Let us adore now, you and I.
Age on age is heaped about us as we hear: Cycles hurry to and fro with giant tread From the deep unto the deep: but do not fear, For the soul unhearing them is dead.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Prayer

 Prayer the Churches banquet, Angels age,
Gods breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgramage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth;
Engine against th'Almightie, sinners towre,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-daies world-transposing in an houre,
A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear;
Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse,
Exalted Manna, gladnesse of the best,
Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest,
The milkie way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bels beyond the starres heard, the souls bloud,
The land of spices; something understood.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Divine Epigrams: Samson to his Delilah

 Could not once blinding me, cruel, suffice?
When first I look'd on thee, I lost mine eyes.


by Richard Crashaw | |

An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife

 TO these whom death again did wed
This grave 's the second marriage-bed.
For though the hand of Fate could force 'Twixt soul and body a divorce, It could not sever man and wife, Because they both lived but one life.
Peace, good reader, do not weep; Peace, the lovers are asleep.
They, sweet turtles, folded lie In the last knot that love could tie.
Let them sleep, let them sleep on, Till the stormy night be gone, And the eternal morrow dawn; Then the curtains will be drawn, And they wake into a light Whose day shall never die in night.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Divine Epigrams: On the Miracle of the Multiplied Loaves

 See here an easy feast that knows no wound,
That under hunger's teeth will needs be sound;
A subtle harvest of unbounded bread,
What would ye more? Here food itself is fed.


by Richard Crashaw | |

But Men Loved Darkness rather than Light

 The world's light shines, shine as it will,
The world will love its darkness still.
I doubt though when the world's in hell, It will not love its darkness half so well.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Christ Crucified

 THY restless feet now cannot go
 For us and our eternal good,
As they were ever wont.
What though They swim, alas! in their own flood? Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift, Yet will Thy hand still giving be; It gives, but O, itself's the gift! It gives tho' bound, tho' bound 'tis free!


by Richard Crashaw | |

Divine Epigrams: On the Baptized Ethiopian

 To wash an Ethiope;
He's wash'd, his gloomy skin a peaceful shade,
For his white soul is made;
And now, I doubt not, the Eternal Dove
A black-fac'd house will love.
Credits and CopyrightTogether with the editors, the Department ofEnglish (University of Toronto), and the University of Toronto Press,the following individuals share copyright for the work that wentinto this edition:Screen Design (Electronic Edition): Sian Meikle (University ofToronto Library)Scanning: Sharine Leung (Centre for Computing in the Humanities)


by Richard Crashaw | |

On Mr. G. Herberts Book Entitled the Temple of Sacred Poe

 Know you fair, on what you look;
Divinest love lies in this book,
Expecting fire from your eyes,
To kindle this his sacrifice.
When your hands untie these strings, Think you'have an angel by th' wings.
One that gladly will be nigh, To wait upon each morning sigh.
To flutter in the balmy air Of your well-perfumed prayer.
These white plumes of his he'll lend you, Which every day to heaven will send you, To take acquaintance of the sphere, And all the smooth-fac'd kindred there.
And though Herbert's name do owe These devotions, fairest, know That while I lay them on the shrine Of your white hand, they are mine.
Credits and CopyrightTogether with the editors, the Department ofEnglish (University of Toronto), and the University of Toronto Press,the following individuals share copyright for the work that wentinto this edition:Screen Design (Electronic Edition): Sian Meikle (University ofToronto Library)Scanning: Sharine Leung (Centre for Computing in the Humanities)


by Richard Crashaw | |

Divine Epigrams: To our Lord upon the Water Made Wine

 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.


by Richard Crashaw | |

The Recommendation

 These houres, and that which hovers o’re my End,
Into thy hands, and hart, lord, I commend.
Take Both to Thine Account, that I and mine In that Hour, and in these, may be all thine.
That as I dedicate my devoutest Breath To make a kind of Life for my lord’s Death, So from his living, and life-giving Death, My dying Life may draw a new, and never fleeting Breath.


by Richard Crashaw | |

Upon the Book and Picture of the Seraphical Saint Teresa

 O THOU undaunted daughter of desires!
By all thy dower of lights and fires;
By all the eagle in thee, all the dove;
By all thy lives and deaths of love;
By thy large draughts of intellectual day,
And by thy thirsts of love more large than they;
By all thy brim-fill'd bowls of fierce desire,
By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire;
By the full kingdom of that final kiss
That seized thy parting soul, and seal'd thee His;
By all the Heav'n thou hast in Him
(Fair sister of the seraphim!);
By all of Him we have in thee;
Leave nothing of myself in me.
Let me so read thy life, that I Unto all life of mine may die!


by Richard Crashaw | |

Two Went up into the Temple to Pray

 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.