On the Sepulchre of our Lord
Here, where our Lord once laid his Head,
Now the grave lies buried.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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On Marriage
I would be married, but I'd have no wife ;
I would be married to a single life.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Samson to his Delilah
Could not once blinding me, cruel, suffice?
When first I look'd on thee, I lost mine eyes.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Divine Epigrams: Samson to his Delilah
Could not once blinding me, cruel, suffice?
When first I look'd on thee, I lost mine eyes.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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On the Water of our Lord's Baptism
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.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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Upon Ford's Two Tragedies
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 ?
poem by Richard Crashaw
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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.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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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.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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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.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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On the Prodigal
Tell me, bright boy, tell me, my golden lad,
Whither away so frolic ? why so glad ?
What all thy wealth in council ? all thy state ?
Are husks so dear ? troth 'tis a mighty rate.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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