The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume 2

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private circulation, 1873
 

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Page 18 - That the saying of Esaias the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spake, Lord, who hath believed our report? and to whom hath the arm of the LORD been revealed?
Page xi - And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you, as wheat: but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not ; and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.
Page xciii - 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.
Page liii - THE TEMPLE TO PRAY.' Two went to pray? O, rather say, One went to brag, the other to pray; One stands up close and treads on high, Where the other dares not lend his eye; One nearer to God's altar trod, The other to the altar's God.
Page lvi - As I stole nearer, Invited by the melody, I saw This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute, With strains of strange variety and harmony, Proclaiming, as it seemed, so bold a challenge To the clear choristers of the woods, the birds. That, as they flocked about him, all stood silent, Wondering at what they heard.
Page lvii - Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice : To end the controversy, in a rapture Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly, So many voluntaries, and so quick, That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Meeting in one full centre of delight.
Page xlvii - All that regards design, form, fable, (which is the soul of poetry,) all that concerns exactness, or consent of parts, (which is the body,) will probably be wanting ; only pretty conceptions, fine metaphors, glittering expressions, and something of a neat cast of verse, (which are properly the dress, gems, or loose ornaments of poetry,) may be found in these verses.
Page xxiii - There he lodged under Tertullian's roof of angels; there he made his nest more gladly than David's swallow near the house of God; where like a primitive saint, he offered more prayers in the night than others usually offer in the day ; there he penned these poems, steps for happy souls to climb heaven by.
Page xlvii - I take this poet to have writ like a gentleman, that is at leisure hours, and more to keep out of idleness than to establish a reputation; so that nothing regular or just can be expected from him.
Page xxiv - Loves his death, and dies again, And would for ever so be slain. And lives, and dies ; and knows not why To live, but that he thus may never leave to die.

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