RICHARD CRASHAW
And with them all about thee bow To Him; put on, He'll say, put on, My rosy Love, that thy rich zone, Sparkling with the sacred flames Of thousand souls, whobe happy names Heaven keeps upon thy score, thy bright Life brought them first to kibs the light That kindled them to stars, and so Thou with the Lamb, thy Lord, shalt go. And, whercboc'er He sets His white Steps, walk with Him those ways of light, Which who in death would live to see, Must learn in life to die like thee.
Upon the Book and Picture of the Sera-phical Saint Teresa
OTHOU 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-filTd 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 ha c t 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'
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