The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw |
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Page xvi
... mother was , and virgin too . How well ( blest Swan ) did fate contrive thy death , And made thee render up thy tuneful breath In thy great mistress ' arms ? Thou most divine , And richest offering of Loretto's shrine ! Where , like ...
... mother was , and virgin too . How well ( blest Swan ) did fate contrive thy death , And made thee render up thy tuneful breath In thy great mistress ' arms ? Thou most divine , And richest offering of Loretto's shrine ! Where , like ...
Page xvii
... mother Church , if I consent That angels led him , when from thee he went ; For ev'n in error , sure no danger is , When join'd with so much piety as his . Ah ! mighty God , with shame I speak't , and grief ; Ah ! that our greatest ...
... mother Church , if I consent That angels led him , when from thee he went ; For ev'n in error , sure no danger is , When join'd with so much piety as his . Ah ! mighty God , with shame I speak't , and grief ; Ah ! that our greatest ...
Page xxi
... mother - tongue ) , viz . Hebrew , Greek , Latin , Italian , Spanish , the two last whereof he had little help in ; they were of his own acquisition . Amongst his other accomplishments in academic ( as well pious as harmless ) arts , he ...
... mother - tongue ) , viz . Hebrew , Greek , Latin , Italian , Spanish , the two last whereof he had little help in ; they were of his own acquisition . Amongst his other accomplishments in academic ( as well pious as harmless ) arts , he ...
Page 13
... mothers , What hath our world that can entice You to be born ? what is't can borrow You from her eyes swoll'n wombs of sorrow ? Whither away so fast ? O whither ? for the sluttish earth Your sweetness cannot taste , Nor does the dust ...
... mothers , What hath our world that can entice You to be born ? what is't can borrow You from her eyes swoll'n wombs of sorrow ? Whither away so fast ? O whither ? for the sluttish earth Your sweetness cannot taste , Nor does the dust ...
Page 24
... had been tabled at thy teats , Thy hunger feels not what He eats : He'll have His teat ere long , a bloody one , — The mother then must suck the Son . To Pontius washing his blood - stained Hands . S 24 STEPS TO THE TEMPLE .
... had been tabled at thy teats , Thy hunger feels not what He eats : He'll have His teat ere long , a bloody one , — The mother then must suck the Son . To Pontius washing his blood - stained Hands . S 24 STEPS TO THE TEMPLE .
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Common terms and phrases
adeo adhuc Æther amor atque blest blood blush breast breath bright cheeks Christe Christum cœli cœlo COUNTESS OF DENBIGH Crashaw dæmon dear death dedit Deus dicere doth Ecce erat Ergo erit eyes face fire flames fuit glory habet hæc hast hath heart heaven hinc holy ignes illa ille illi Inque ipsa ipse ista JOAN joys kiss lacrymas live Lord Love's magis manus MATTH mihi murmurs neque nest night nihil nives nunc oculis oculus opus pow'rs precious puer quæ quam quid Quippe quis quod quoque Responsor RICHARD CRASHAW sacrum satis scilicet shalt sibi sinus smile soft soul staret stars sunt suum sweet tamen tantum tears tenebras thee Thine thou Thy Cross thy fair thyself tibi tuæ tuam tuis tunc tuum tuus umbra unda velit Versicle vex'd vulnera weep wounds
Popular passages
Page 134 - And teach her fair steps tread our earth ; Till that divine Idea take a shrine Of crystal flesh, through which to shine : — Meet you her, my Wishes, Bespeak her to my blisses, And be ye call'd, my absent kisses.
Page 89 - From this to that; then quick returning skips And snatches this again, and pauses there. She measures every measure, everywhere Meets art with art; sometimes as if in doubt Not perfect yet, and fearing to be out, Trails her plain ditty in one long-spun note, Through the sleek passage of her open throat, A clear unwrinkled song...
Page 137 - Days, that need borrow No part of their good morrow, From a fore-spent night of sorrow. Days, that in spite Of darkness, by the light Of a clear mind, are day all night. Nights; sweet as they Made short by lovers' play, Yet long by tli
Page xviii - I'm sure, was in the right ; And I myself a Catholic will be, So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee...
Page 104 - Twixt soul and body a divorce, It could not sunder man and wife, 'Cause 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 love could tie.
Page 132 - THE modest front of this small floor, Believe me, reader, can say more Than many a braver marble can — " Here lies a truly honest man ;" One whose conscience was a thing That troubled neither church nor king.
Page xviii - Elisha-like (but with a wish much less, More fit thy greatness, and my littleness) Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didst prove So humble to esteem, so good to love) Not that thy spirit might on me doubled be, I ask but half thy mighty spirit for me ; And when my muse soars with so strong a wing, 'Twill learn of things divine, and first of thee to sing.
Page 39 - Poor world (said I), what wilt thou do To entertain this starry Stranger ? Is this the best thou canst bestow ? A cold, and not too cleanly, manger ? Contend, the powers of Heaven and Earth, To fit a bed for this huge birth ? Chorus: Contend, the powers, etc.
Page 21 - One went to brag, th' other to pray ; One stands up close and treads on high, Where th' other dares not lend his eye. One nearer to God's altar trod, The other to the altar's God.
Page 3 - Not in the evening's eyes, When they red with weeping are For the Sun that dies, Sits Sorrow with a face so fair. Nowhere but here did ever meet Sweetness so sad, sadness so sweet.