Part 11

Line 29, our text (1652) misreads 'now:' we restore 'enow,' after the editions as in No. 9.

Line 34, our text misreads 'too' after 'we:' I omit it, as in 1646 and 1670. 1648 has 'to.'

Line 41, 'Wine of youth's Life.'

" 45, 'in' for 'at.' As the 'Apologie' refers only to the Hymn preceding, and not to what follows, I have placed it after the former, not (as in 1648) the latter, which would make it refer to both. G.

THE FLAMING HEART:

VPON THE BOOK AND PICTURE OF THE SERAPHICAL SAINT TERESA, AS SHE IS VSVALLY EXPRESSED WITH A SERAPHIM BISIDE HER.[50]

Wel-meaning readers! you that come as freinds 1 And catch the pretious name this peice pretends; Make not too much hast to admire That fair-cheek't fallacy of fire. That is a seraphim, they say 5 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; 10 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 15 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, 20 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 25 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; 30 What e're this youth of fire, weares fair, Rosy fingers, radiant hair, Glowing cheek, and glistering wings, All those fair and fragrant things But before all, that fiery dart 35 Had fill'd the hand of this great heart. Doe then, as equall right requires, Since his the blushes be, and her's the fires, Resume and rectify thy rude design, Vndresse thy seraphim into mine; 40 Redeem this iniury of thy art, Giue him the vail, giue her the dart. Giue him the vail; that he may couer The red cheeks of a riuall'd louer. Asham'd that our world now can show 45 Nests of new seraphims here below. Giue her the dart, for it is she (Fair youth) shootes both thy shaft, and thee; Say, all ye wise and well-peirc't hearts That liue and dy amidst her darts, 50 What is't your tastfull spirits doe proue In that rare life of her, and Loue? Say, and bear witnes. Sends she not A seraphim at euery shott? What magazins of immortall armes there shine! 55 Heaun's great artillery in each loue-spun line. Giue then the dart to her who giues the flame; Giue him the veil, who giues the shame. 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, 65 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, 85 Vpon this carcasse of a hard, cold hart; Let all thy scatter'd shafts of light, that play Among the leaues of thy larg books of day. Combin'd against this brest at once break in And take away from me my self and sin; 90 This gratious robbery shall thy bounty be, And my best fortunes such fair spoiles of me. O thou vndanted daughter of desires! By all thy dowr of lights and fires; By all the eagle in thee, all the doue; 95 By all thy liues and deaths of loue; By thy larg draughts of intellectuall day, And by thy thirsts of loue more large then they; By all thy brim-fill'd bowles of feirce desire, By thy last morning's draught of liquid fire; 100 By the full kingdome of that finall kisse That seiz'd thy parting soul, and seal'd thee His; By all the Heau'n thou hast in Him (Fair sister of the seraphim!) By all of Him we have in thee; 105 Leaue nothing of my self in me. Let me so read thy life, that I Vnto all life of mine may dy.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The title in 1648 omits the words 'the seraphical saint,' and the text there lacks the last twenty-four lines.

_Various readings from 1648._

Line 3, 'so' for 'too.'

" 11, 'And' for 'read.'

" 18, 'happier.'

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 blushing shamefacedness of being outdone in his own seraphic nature by an earthly saint. G.

A SONG OF DIVINE LOVE.[51]

Lord, when the sense of Thy sweet grace 1 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! 5 Be still triumphant, blessed eyes! Still shine on me, fair suns! that I Still may behold, though still I dy.

SECOND PART.

Though still I dy, I liue again; Still longing so to be still slain; 10 So gainfull is such losse of breath, I dy euen in desire of death. Still liue in me this longing strife Of liuing death and dying life; For while Thou sweetly slayest me 15 Dead to my selfe, I liue in Thee.

IN THE GLORIOVS ASSVMPTION OF OVR BLESSED LADY.[52]

THE HYMN.

Hark! she is call'd, the parting houre is come; 1 Take thy farewell, poor World! Heaun must go home. A peice of heau'nly earth; purer and brighter Then the chast starres, whose choise lamps come to light her, Whil'st through the crystall orbes, clearer then they 5 She climbes; and makes a farre more Milkey Way. She's call'd! Hark, how the dear immortall Doue Sighes to His syluer mate, 'Rise vp, my loue'! Rise vp, my fair, my spotlesse one! The Winter's past, the rain is gone; 10 The Spring is come, the flowrs appear, No sweets, (save thou,) are wanting here. Come away, my loue! Come away, my doue! Cast off delay; 15 The court of Heau'n is come To wait vpon thee home; Come, come away! The flowrs appear, Or quickly would, wert thou once here. 20 The Spring is come, or if it stay 'Tis to keep time with thy delay. The rain is gone, except so much as we Detain in needfull teares to weep the want of thee. The Winter's past, 25 Or if he make lesse hast, His answer is, why she does so, If Sommer come not, how can Winter goe? Come away, come away! The shrill winds chide, the waters weep thy stay; 30 The fountains murmur, and each loftyest tree Bowes low'st his leauy top, to look for thee. Come away, my loue! Come away, my doue &c. She's call'd again. And will she goe? 35 When Heau'n bidds come, who can say no? Heau'n calls her, and she must away, Heau'n will not, and she cannot stay. Goe then; goe, gloriovs on the golden wings Of the bright youth of Heau'n, that sings 40 Vnder so sweet a burthen. Goe, Since thy dread Son will haue it so. And while thou goest, our song and we Will, as we may, reach after thee. Hail, holy queen of humble hearts! 45 We in thy prayse will haue our parts. And though thy dearest lookes must now give light To none but the blest heavens, whose bright Beholders, lost in sweet delight, Feed for ever their faire sight 50 With those divinest eyes, which we And our darke world noe more shall see; Though our poore eyes are parted soe, Yet shall our lipps never lett goe Thy gracious name, but to the last 55 Our loving song shall hold it fast. Thy pretious name shall be Thy self to vs; and we With holy care will keep it by vs. We to the last 60 Will hold it fast, And no Assvmption shall deny vs. All the sweetest showres Of our fairest flowres Will we strow vpon it. 65 Though our sweets cannot make It sweeter, they can take Themselues new sweetness from it. Maria, men and angels sing, Maria, mother of our King. 70 Live, rosy princesse, live! and may the bright Crown of a most incomparable light Embrace thy radiant browes. O may the best Of euerlasting ioyes bath thy white brest. Live, our chast loue, the holy mirth 75 Of Heau'n; the humble pride of Earth. Liue, crown of woemen; queen of men; Liue, mistresse of our song. And when Our weak desires haue done their best, Sweet angels come, and sing the rest. 80

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The heading in the SANCROFT MS. is 'On the Assumption of the Virgin Marie.' In line 5 it reads 'whil'st,' and so in line 43: line 7, 'againe th' immortal Dove:' line 12, our text (1652) reads 'but;' we prefer 'saue' of 1648 and the MS.: line 30, our text (1652) misprints 'heauy' for 'leavy' of 1648: line 42, the MS. reads 'great:' line 47, 'give' for 'be;' adopted: line 53, 'eyes' for 'ioyes;' adopted: line 57, 'sacred:' line 76, 'bragg:' line 77, '_praise_ of women, _pride_ of men.'

By an unaccountable inadvertence, our text (1652) omits lines 47-56. They are restored from 1648: they also appear in 1670. Line 18 in 1648 reads 'Come, come away:' in 1670 it is 'Come away, come away;' but this edition strangely, but characteristically, omits lines 19-34; and TURNBULL, following it, though pronounced by himself 'the most inaccurate of all' (Preliminary Observations, p. xi. of his edition), has overlooked them. Confer, for a quaint parallel with these lines (19-34), our JOSEPH FLETCHER. It may also be noted here that TURNBULL betrays his habitual use of his self-condemned text of 1670 by misreading in line 12, 'No sweets since thou art wanting here;' so converting the fine compliment into ungrammatical nonsense. Earlier also (line 3) he similarly reads, after the same text, 'light' for 'earth.' So too in line 7 he reads 'She's call'd again; hark! how th' immortall dove:' and line 42, for the favourite 'dread' of our Poet the weaker 'great,' as _supra_: and the following line 63 omits 'the:' line 64, 'our:' line 65 reads 'We'll:' line 76, 'and' for 'the.' On lines 9-10, cf. Song of Solomon, ii. 10-13. G.

UPON FIVE PIOVS AND LEARNED DISCOURSES:

BY ROBERT SHELFORD.[53]

Rise, then, immortall maid! Religion, rise! 1 Put on thy self in thine own looks: t' our eyes Be what thy beauties, not our blots, have made thee; Such as (ere our dark sinnes to dust betray'd thee) Heav'n set thee down new drest; when thy bright birth 5 Shot thee like lightning to th' astonisht Earth. From th' dawn of thy fair eyelids wipe away Dull mists and melancholy clouds: take Day And thine own beams about thee: bring the best Of whatsoe're perfum'd thy Eastern nest. 10 Girt all thy glories to thee: then sit down, Open this book, fair Queen, and take thy crown. These learnèd leaves shall vindicate to thee Thy holyest, humblest, handmaid, Charitie; She'l dresse thee like thy self, set thee on high 15 Where thou shalt reach all hearts, command each eye. Lo! where I see thy altars wake, and rise From the pale dust of that strange sacrifice Which they themselves were; each one putting on A majestie that may beseem thy throne. 20 The holy youth of Heav'n, whose golden rings Girt round thy awfull altars; with bright wings Fanning thy fair locks, (which the World beleeves As much as sees) shall with these sacred leaves Trick their tall plumes, and in that garb shall go 25 If not more glorious, more conspicuous tho. --------Be it enacted then, By the fair laws of thy firm-pointed pen, God's services no longer shall put on Pure sluttishnesse for pure religion: 30 No longer shall our Churches' frighted stones Lie scatter'd like the burnt and martyr'd bones Of dead Devotion; nor faint marbles weep In their sad ruines; nor Religion keep A melancholy mansion in those cold 35 Urns: Like God's sanctuaries they lookt of old; Now seem they Temples consecrate to none, Or to a new god, Desolation. No more the hypocrite shall th' upright be Because he's stiffe, and will confesse no knee: 40 While others bend their knee, no more shalt thou, (Disdainfull dust and ashes!) bend thy brow; Nor on God's altar cast two scorching eyes, Bak't in hot scorn, for a burnt sacrifice: But (for a lambe) thy tame and tender heart, 45 New struck by Love, still trembling on his dart; Or (for two turtle-doves) it shall suffice To bring a pair of meek and humble eyes. This shall from henceforth be the masculine theme Pulpits and pennes shall sweat in; to redeem 50 Vertue to action, that life-feeding flame That keeps Religion warm: not swell a name Of Faith; a mountain-word, made up of aire, With those deare spoils that wont to dresse the fair And fruitfull Charitie's full breasts (of old), 55 Turning her out to tremble in the cold. What can the poore hope from us, when we be Uncharitable ev'n to Charitie? Nor shall our zealous ones still have a fling At that most horrible and hornèd thing, 60 Forsooth the Pope: by which black name they call The Turk, the devil, Furies, Hell and all, And something more. O he is Antichrist: Doubt this, and doubt (say they) that Christ is Christ: Why, 'tis a point of Faith. What e're it be, 65 I'm sure it is no point of Charitie. In summe, no longer shall our people hope, To be a true Protestant's but to hate the Pope.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

I have taken the text of this poem as it originally appeared, because in all the editions of the Poems wherein it is given the last ten lines are omitted. TURNBULL discovered this after his text of the Poems was printed off, and so had to insert them in a Postscript, wherein his genius for blundering describes Shelford's volume as 'Five ... _Poems_.' These slight variations may be recorded:

The title in all is 'On a Treatise of Charity.'

Line 12, 1648 has 'thy' for 'this.'

" 16, ib. 'shall' for 'shalt.'

" 17, all the editions 'off'rings' for 'altars.'

" 30, ib. 'A' for the first 'pure.'

" 36, our text misprints 'look' for 'look't.'

The poem is signed in Shelford's volume 'RICH. CRASHAW, Aul. Pemb. A.B.' It appeared in 'Steps' of 1646 (pp. 86-8), 1648 (pp. 101-2), 1670 (pp. 68-70). G.

DIES IRÆ, DIES ILLA:

THE HYMN OF THE CHVRCH, IN MEDITATION OF THE DAY OF IVDGMENT.[54]

I.

Hear'st thou, my soul, what serious things Both the Psalm and sybyll sings Of a sure Iudge, from Whose sharp ray The World in flames shall fly away.

II.

O that fire! before whose face Heaun and Earth shall find no place. O those eyes! Whose angry light Must be the day of that dread night.

III.

O that trump! whose blast shall run An euen round with the circling sun, And vrge the murmuring graues to bring Pale mankind forth to meet his King.

IV.

Horror of Nature, Hell, and Death! When a deep groan from beneath Shall cry, We come, we come, and all The caues of Night answer one call.

V.

O that Book! whose leaues so bright Will sett the World in seuere light. O that Iudge! Whose hand, Whose eye None can indure; yet none can fly.

VI.

Ah then, poor soul, what wilt thou say? And to what patron chuse to pray? When starres themselues shall stagger; and The most firm foot no more then stand.

VII.

But Thou giu'st leaue (dread Lord!) that we Take shelter from Thy self, in Thee; And with the wings of Thine Own doue Fly to Thy scepter of soft loue.

VIII.

Dear, remember in that Day Who was the cause Thou cam'st this way. Thy sheep was stray'd; and Thou wouldst be Euen lost Thyself in seeking me.

IX.

Shall all that labour, all that cost Of loue, and eu'n that losse, be lost? And this lou'd soul, iudg'd worth no lesse Then all that way, and wearyness.

X.

Iust mercy then, Thy reckning be With my Price, and not with me; 'Twas pay'd at first with too much pain, To be pay'd twice; or once, in vain.

XI.

Mercy (my Iudge), mercy I cry With blushing cheek and bleeding ey: The conscious colors of my sin Are red without and pale within.

XII.

O let Thine Own soft bowells pay Thy self; and so discharge that day. If Sin can sigh, Loue can forgiue: O say the word, my soul shall liue.

XIII.

Those mercyes which Thy Mary found, Or who Thy crosse confes't and crown'd; Hope tells my heart, the same loues be Still aliue, and still for me.

XIV.

Though both my prayres and teares combine, Both worthlesse are; for they are mine. But Thou Thy bounteous Self still be; And show Thou art, by sauing me.

XV.

O when Thy last frown shall proclaim The flocks of goates to folds of flame, And all Thy lost sheep found shall be; Let 'Come ye blessed,' then call me.

XVI.

When the dread '_Ite_' shall diuide Those limbs of death, from Thy left side; Let those life-speaking lipps command That I inheritt Thy right hand.

XVII.

O hear a suppliant heart, all crush't And crumbled into contrite dust. My hope, my fear! my Iudge, my Freind! Take charge of me, and of my end.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In st. vi. line 4, 'then' is = than, on which cf. our PHINEAS FLETCHER, as before: in st. xvi. line 1, '_Ite_' = 'go ye' of the Vulgate. 1670, st. ii. line 3, misprints 'these' for 'those:' st. viii. line 3, 'And Thou would'st be,' _i.e._ didst will to be,--not merely wished to be, but carried out Thy intent. G.

CHARITAS NIMIA, OR THE DEAR BARGAIN.[55]

Lord, what is man? why should he coste Thee 1 So dear? what had his ruin lost Thee? Lord, what is man? that thou hast ouerbought So much a thing of nought?

Loue is too kind, I see; and can 5 Make but a simple merchant-man. 'Twas for such sorry merchandise, Bold painters haue putt out his eyes.

Alas, sweet Lord, what wer't to Thee If there were no such wormes as we? 10 Heau'n ne're the lesse still Heau'n would be, Should mankind dwell In the deep Hell: What haue his woes to doe with Thee?

Let him goe weep 15 O're his own wounds; Seraphims will not sleep Nor spheares let fall their faithfull rounds. Still would the youthfull spirits sing; And still Thy spatious palace ring; 20 Still would those beauteous ministers of light Burn all as bright.

And bow their flaming heads before Thee: Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee; Still would those euer-wakefull sons of fire 25 Keep warm Thy prayse Both nights and dayes, And teach Thy lou'd name to their noble lyre.

Let froward dust then doe it's kind; And giue it self for sport to the proud wind. 30 Why should a peice of peeuish clay plead shares In the æternity of Thy old cares? Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awfull brest to see What mine own madnesses haue done with me?

Should not the king still keepe his throne 35 Because some desperate fool's vndone? Or will the World's illustrious eyes Weep for euery worm that dyes.

Will the gallant sun E're the lesse glorious run? 40 Will he hang down his golden head Or e're the sooner seek his Western bed, Because some foolish fly Growes wanton, and will dy?

If I were lost in misery, 45 What was it to Thy Heaun and Thee? What was it to Thy pretious blood If my foul heart call'd for a floud?

What if my faithlesse soul and I Would needs fall in 50 With guilt and sin; What did the Lamb, that He should dy? What did the Lamb, that He should need, When the wolf sins, Himself to bleed?

If my base lust, 55 Bargain'd with Death and well-beseeming dust: Why should the white Lamb's bosom write The purple name Of my sin's shame? 60 Why should His vnstaind brest make good My blushes with His Own heart-blood?

O my Saviovr, make me see How dearly Thou hast payd for me, That lost again my life may proue, 65 As then in death, so now in loue.

S. MARIA MAIOR.

Dilectus meus mihi, et ego illi, qui pascitur inter lilia. _Cant._ ii.

THE HIMN, O GLORIOSA DOMINA.[56]