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Make not too much hast to admire
That fair-cheek't fallacy of fire.
That is a seraphim, they say
And this the great Teresia.
Readers, be rul’d by me; and make
Here a well-plact and wise mistake:
You must transpose the picture quite,
And spell it wrong to read it right;
Read him for her, and her for him,
And call the saint the seraphim.

Painter, what didst thou vnderstand
To put her dart into his hand ?
See, euen the yeares and size of him
Showes this the mother seraphim.
This is the mistresse flame; and duteous he
Her happy fire-works here, comes down to see.
O most poor-spirited of men!
Had thy cold pencil kist her pen,
Thou couldst not so vnkindly err
To show vs this faint shade for her.
Why, man, this speakes pure mortall frame;
And mockes with female frost Loue's manly flame.
One would suspect thou meant'st to paint
Some weak, inferiour, woman-saint.
But had thy pale-fac't purple took
Fire from the burning cheeks of that bright booke,
Thou wouldst on her haue heap't vp all
That could be found seraphicall;

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VOL. I.

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65

But if it be the frequent fate Of worst faults to be fortunate;

60 If all's præscription ; and proud wrong Hearkens not to an humble song; For all the gallantry of him, Giue me the suffring seraphim. His be the brauery of all those bright things, The glowing cheekes, the glistering wings; The rosy hand, the radiant dart; Leaue her alone the flaming heart.

Leaue her that ; and thou shalt leaue her Not one loose shaft but Loue's whole quiver. 70 For in Loue's feild was neuer found A nobler weapon then a wovnd. Loue's passiues are his actiu'st part, The wounded is the wounding heart. O heart! the æquall poise of Loue's both parts 75 Bigge alike with wound and darts. Liue in these conquering leaues ; liue all the same, And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame. Liue here, great heart; and loue and dy and kill; And bleed and wound; and yeild and conquer still. 80 Let this immortall life wherere it comes Walk in a crowd of loues and martyrdomes. Let mystick deaths wait on't; and wise soules be The loue-slain wittnesses of this life of thee. O sweet incendiary! shew here thy art, V pon this carcasse of a hard, cold hart ;

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Line 31 misreads. But e're,' and 'were' for 'weares.'

33, "cheekes.'

34 flagrantly misreads 'flagrant' for ' fragrant,' which TURNBULL as usual blindly repeats. Line 48, . shafts.'

58 reads ... kindly tells the shame. It is a characteristic of CRASHAW to vary his measures, else I should have adopted this reading from 1648. The line is somewhat obscure through the conceitful repetition of 'gives.' The sense is, who, being pictured red, shows the ning shamefacedness of being outdone in his own seraphic nature by an earthly saint. G.

A SONG OF DIVINE LOVE.1

LORD, when the sense of Thy sweet grace
Sends vp my soul to seek Thy face,
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,
I dy in Loue's delicious fire.

O Loue, I am thy sacrifice !
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes !
Still shine on me, fair suns ! that I
Still may behold, though still I dy.

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SECOND PART.

Though still I dy, I liue again ; Still longing so to be still slain ;

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1 Appeared originally in 'Steps' of 1648 (p. 98): reprinted in 1652 (p. 107) and 1670 (pp. 197-8). Our text is that of 1652, as before ; but the only difference in the others is (except the usual slight changes in orthography), that in 1648, 2d part, line 5 reads “longing' for ‘louing,' which I have adopted, as pointing back to the longing' of the 1st part, line 2. The title I take from 1648, as in 1652 it is simply · A Song.' G.

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