XIV.

O let that loue which thus makes Thee Mix with our low mortality, Lift our lean soules, and sett vs vp Con-victors of Thine Own full cup, Coheirs of saints. That so all may Drink the same wine; and the same way: Nor change the pastvre, but the place, To feed of Thee, in Thine Own face. Amen.

NOTES.

In 1648, line 3 has 'thou' for 'you:' line 4 'and' for 'to:' line 6, 'ambitious:' line 19, 'Lord' is misprinted 'Law:' line 39, 'names:' line 42 spells 'one' as 'on:' line 55, our text (1652) misprints 'shall:' line 75, 1648 reads 'mean' for 'lean.' G.

PRAYER:

AN ODE WHICH WAS PRAEFIXED TO A LITTLE PRAYER-BOOK GIVEN TO A YOUNG GENTLE-WOMAN.[44]

Lo here a little volume, but great book! 1 (Feare it not, sweet, It is no hipocrit) Much larger in itselfe then in its looke. A nest of new-born sweets; 5 Whose natiue fires disdaining To ly thus folded, and complaining Of these ignoble sheets, Affect more comly bands (Fair one) from thy kind hands; 10 And confidently look To find the rest Of a rich binding in your brest. It is, in one choise handfull, Heauvn; and all Heaun's royall host; incampt thus small 15 To proue that true, Schooles vse to tell, Ten thousand angels in one point can dwell. It is Loue's great artillery Which here contracts it self, and comes to ly 19 Close-couch't in your white bosom; and from thence As from a snowy fortresse of defence, Against the ghostly foes to take your part, And fortify the hold of your chast heart. It is an armory of light; Let constant vse but keep it bright, 25 You'l find it yields To holy hands and humble hearts More swords and sheilds Then sin hath snares, or Hell hath darts. Only be sure 30 The hands be pure That hold these weapons; and the eyes, Those of turtles, chast and true; Wakefull and wise: Here is a freind shall fight for you; 35 Hold but this book before your heart, Let prayer alone to play his part; But O the heart That studyes this high art Must be a sure house-keeper: 40 And yet no sleeper. Dear soul, be strong! Mercy will come e're long And bring his bosome fraught with blessings, Flowers of neuer-fading graces 45 To make immortall dressings For worthy soules, whose wise embraces Store vp themselues for Him, Who is alone The Spovse of virgins and the virgin's Son. But if the noble Bridegroom, when He come, 50 Shall find the loytering heart from home; Leauing her chast aboad To gadde abroad Among the gay mates of the god of flyes; To take her pleasure, and to play 55 And keep the deuill's holyday; To dance in th' sunshine of some smiling But beguiling Spheare of sweet and sugred lyes; Some slippery pair 60 Of false, perhaps, as fair, Flattering but forswearing, eyes; Doubtlesse some other heart Will gett the start Meanwhile, and stepping in before 65 Will take possession of that sacred store Of hidden sweets and holy ioyes; Words which are not heard with eares (Those tumultuous shops of noise) Effectuall whispers, whose still voice 70 The soul it selfe more feeles then heares; Amorous languishments; luminous trances; Sights which are not seen with eyes; Spirituall and soul-peircing glances Whose pure and subtil lightning flyes 75 Home to the heart, and setts the house on fire, And melts it down in sweet desire Yet doth not stay To ask the windows' leaue, to passe that way; Delicious deaths; soft exalations 80 Of soul; dear and diuine annihilations; A thousand vnknown rites Of ioyes and rarefy'd delights; A hundred thousand goods, glories, and graces: And many a mystick thing 85 Which the diuine embraces Of the deare Spouse of spirits, with them will bring, For which it is no shame That dull mortality must not know a name. Of all this hidden store 90 Of blessings, and ten thousand more (If when He come He find the heart from home) Doubtlesse He will vnload Himself some other where, 95 And poure abroad His pretious sweets On the fair soul whom first He meets. O fair, O fortunate! O riche! O dear! O happy and thrice-happy she 100 Deare silver-breasted dove Who ere she be, Whose early loue With winged vowes Makes hast to meet her morning Spouse, 105 And close with His immortall kisses. Happy indeed, who neuer misses To improue that pretious hour, And euery day Seize her sweet prey, 110 All fresh and fragrant as He rises, Dropping with a baulmy showr, A delicious dew of spices; O let the blissfull heart hold it fast Her heaunly arm-full; she shall tast 115 At once ten thousand paradises; She shall haue power To rifle and deflour The rich and roseall spring of those rare sweets Which with a swelling bosome there she meets: 120 Boundles and infinite ___________ ___________ Bottomles treasures Of pure inebriating pleasures. Happy proof! she shal discouer What ioy, what blisse, 125 How many heau'ns at once it is To haue her God become her Lover.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The text of 1648 corresponds pretty closely, except in the usual changes of orthography, with our text (1652): and 1670, in like manner, follows that of 1646. 1646 edition furnishes some noticeable variations:

Line 1, 'large' for 'great.'

" 2-4 restored to their place here. TURNBULL gives them in a foot-note with this remark: 'So in the Paris edition of 1652. In all the others,

Fear it not, sweet, It is no hypocrite, Much larger in itself, than in its book.'

This is a mistake. The only edition that omits the lines (5-13) besides the first (1646) and substitutes these three is that of 1670.

Lines 5-13 not in 1646 edition: first appeared in 1648 edition.

" 14, 'choise' for 'rich.'

" 15, 'hoasts' for 'host.'

" 17, 'Ten thousand.'

" 20. Our text (1652) here and elsewhere misreads 'their:' silently corrected.

Line 22. Our text (1652) misprints 'their' for 'the:' as 'the' is the reading of 1648 and 1670, I have adopted it.

Line 24, 'the' for 'an.'

" 27, 'hand' for 'hands.'

" 37, 1648 edition has 'its' for 'his.'

" 44. Our text (1652) oddly misprints 'besom' for 'bosome:' the latter reading in 1646, 1648 and 1670 vindicates itself. 1646 reads 'her' and 1648 'its' for 'his.'

Line 50, 'comes' for 'come.'

" 51, 'wandring' for 'loytering.'

" 54. The allusion is to one of the names of Satan, viz. Baal-zebub = fly-god, dunghill-god.

Line 55, 'pleasures.'

" 57. Our text (1652) inadvertently drops 'in.' 1648 has 'i' th'.'

Line 59. Our text misprints 'spheares:' 1648 adopts 'spheare' from 1646 edition. 1670 misprints 'spear.'

Line 62, 'forswearing:' a classic word.

" 64, 'git' is the spelling.

" 65. All the editions save our text (1652) omit 'meanwhile.'

Line 66, 'the' for 'that.'

" 69, 'These' for 'Those,' by mistake.

" 78, 'doth' for 'does' I have adopted here.

" 83, 1648, by misprint, has 'O' for 'Of.'

" 84, 'An hundred thousand loves and graces.'

" 90. I have accepted 'hidden' before 'store' from 1646 edition.

Line 101. I have also adopted this characteristic line from 1646 edition. In all the others (except 1670) it is 'Selected dove.'

Line 107, 'soule' for 'indeed.'

" 114, 'that' for 'the.'

" 121-122. In 1648 printed as _supra_, the lines probably indicating a blank where the MS. was illegible. In our text (1652) we have two lines, but no blank indicated.

Line 124, 'soul' for 'proof.'

" 127, 'a' for 'her.' G.

TO THE SAME PARTY:

COVNCEL CONCERNING HER CHOISE.[45]

Dear, Heaun-designed sovl! 1 Amongst the rest Of suters that beseige your maiden brest, Why may not I My fortune try 5 And venture to speak one good word, Not for my self, alas! but for my dearer Lord? You have seen allready, in this lower sphear Of froth and bubbles, what to look for here: Say, gentle soul, what can you find 10 But painted shapes, Peacocks and apes; Illustrious flyes, Guilded dunghills, glorious lyes; Goodly surmises 15 And deep disguises, Oathes of water, words of wind? Trvth biddes me say 'tis time you cease to trust Your soul to any son of dust. 'Tis time you listen to a brauer loue, 20 Which from aboue Calls you vp higher And biddes you come And choose your roome Among His own fair sonnes of fire; 25 Where you among The golden throng That watches at His palace doores May passe along, And follow those fair starres of your's; 30 Starrs much too fair and pure to wait vpon The false smiles of a sublunary sun. Sweet, let me prophesy that at last t'will proue Your wary loue Layes vp his purer and more pretious vowes, 35 And meanes them for a farre more worthy Spovse Then this World of lyes can giue ye: Eu'n for Him with Whom nor cost, Nor loue, nor labour can be lost; Him Who neuer will deceiue ye. 40 Let not my Lord, the mighty Louer Of soules, disdain that I discouer The hidden art Of His high stratagem to win your heart: It was His heaunly art 45 Kindly to cross you In your mistaken loue; That, at the next remoue Thence, He might tosse you And strike your troubled heart 50 Home to Himself; to hide it in His brest: The bright ambrosiall nest Of Loue, of life, and euerlasting rest. Happy mystake! That thus shall wake 55 Your wise soul, neuer to be wonne Now with a loue below the sun. Your first choyce failes; O when you choose agen May it not be amongst the sonnes of men.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The first line, 'To Mistress M.R. Dear, Heav'n-designed soul,'

as in 1670, is not to be considered as an unrhymed line, but as the address or superscription, though so contrived as not to interfere with the metre, but to make a five-foot line with the two feet of the true first line of the poem. So Parolles prefaces his verse with

'Dian, the count's a fool and full of gold.'

(_All's Well that ends Well_, iv. 3.)

and Longaville (_Love's Labour Lost_) prefixes to his sonnet,

'O sweet Maria, empress of my love.'

In fact, it is the 'Madam' of a poetical epistle brought into metrical harmony with the verse. G.

DESCRIPTION OF A RELIGIOVS HOVSE AND CONDITION OF LIFE.

(OVT OF BARCLAY.)[46]

No roofes of gold o're riotous tables shining 1 Whole dayes and suns, deuour'd with endlesse dining. No sailes of Tyrian sylk, proud pauements sweeping, Nor iuory couches costlyer slumber keeping; False lights of flairing gemmes; tumultuous ioyes; 5 Halls full of flattering men and frisking boyes; What'ere false showes of short and slippery good Mix the mad sons of men in mutuall blood. But walkes, and vnshorn woods; and soules, iust so Vnforc't and genuine; but not shady tho. 10 Our lodgings hard and homely as our fare, That chast and cheap, as the few clothes we weare. Those, course and negligent, as the naturall lockes Of these loose groues; rough as th' vnpolish't rockes. A hasty portion of praescribed sleep; 15 Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep, And sing, and sigh, and work, and sleep again; Still rowling a round spear of still-returning pain. Hands full of harty labours; paines that pay And prize themselves: doe much, that more they may, 20 And work for work, not wages; let to-morrow's New drops, wash off the sweat of this daye's sorrows. A long and dayly-dying life, which breaths A respiration of reuiuing deaths. But neither are there those ignoble stings 25 That nip the blossome of the World's best things, And lash Earth-labouring souls.... No cruell guard of diligent cares, that keep Crown'd woes awake, as things too wise for sleep: But reuerent discipline, and religious fear, 30 And soft obedience, find sweet biding here; Silence, and sacred rest; peace, and pure ioyes; Kind loues keep house, ly close, make no noise; And room enough for monarchs, while none swells Beyond the kingdomes of contentfull cells. 35 The self-remembring sovl sweetly recouers Her kindred with the starrs; not basely houers Below: but meditates her immortall way Home to the originall sourse of Light and intellectuall day

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In 1648 the heading is simply 'Description of a religious house.' The original occurs in BARCLAY'S _Argenis_, book v. These variations include one important correction of a long-standing blunder:

Line 3, 1648 misprints 'weeping' for 'sweeping.'

" 4, 'costly' for 'costlyer.'

" 6, 'flatt'ring' for 'flattering.'

" 19-20. Our text (1652), followed by 1670, strangely confuses this couplet by printing,

'Hands full of harty labours; doe much, that more they may.'

TURNBULL, as usual, unintelligently repeats the blunder. Even in using the text of 1652 exceptionally, if only he found it confirmed by 1670, there was no vigilance. The reading of 1648 puts all right.

Line 23. Our text misspells 'ding.'

" 26. Misprinted 'bosome' in all the editions, and perpetuated by TURNBULL. Line 27 that follows is a break (unrhymed).

Line 33. 1648 misreads 'keep no noise.' G.

ON MR. GEORGE HERBERT'S BOOKE INTITULED THE TEMPLE OF SACRED POEMS.

SENT TO A GENTLE-WOMAN.[47]

Know you, faire, on what you looke? 1 Divinest love lyes in this booke: Expecting fier from your faire eyes, To kindle this his sacrifice.

When your hands untie these strings, 5 Think, yo' have an angell by the wings; One that gladly would be nigh, To waite upon each morning sigh; To flutter in the balmy aire Of your well-perfumed praier; 10 These white plumes of his hee'l lend you, Which every day to Heaven will send you: To take acquaintance of each spheare, And all your smooth-fac'd kindred there. And though HERBERT'S name doe owe 15 These devotions; fairest, know While I thus lay them on the shrine Of your white hand, they are mine.

A HYMN TO THE NAME AND HONOR OF THE ADMIRABLE SAINTE TERESA:

Fovndresse of the Reformation of the discalced Carmelites, both men and women; a Woman for angelicall heigth of speculation, for masculine courage of performance more then a woman: who yet a child, out-ran maturity, and durst plott a Martyrdome;

Misericordias Domini in Aeternvm cantabo.

Le Vray portraict de Ste Terese, Fondatrice des Religieuses et Religieux reformez de l'ordre de N. Dame du mont Carmel: Decedee le 4e Octo. 1582. Canonisee le 12e Mars. 1622.[48]

THE HYMNE.

Loue, thou art absolute, sole lord 1 Of life and death. To proue the word Wee'l now appeal to none of all Those thy old souldiers, great and tall, Ripe men of martyrdom, that could reach down 5 With strong armes, their triumphant crown; Such as could with lusty breath Speak lowd into the face of death, Their great Lord's glorious name, to none Of those whose spatious bosomes spread a throne 10 For Love at large to fill; spare blood and sweat: And see him take a priuate seat, Making his mansion in the mild And milky soul of a soft child. Scarse has she learn't to lisp the name 15 Of martyr; yet she thinks it shame Life should so long play with that breath Which spent can buy so braue a death. She neuer vndertook to know What Death with Loue should haue to doe; 20 Nor has she e're yet vnderstood Why to show loue, she should shed blood, Yet though she cannot tell you why She can love, and she can dy. Scarse has she blood enough to make 25 A guilty sword blush for her sake; Yet has she a heart dares hope to proue How much lesse strong is Death then Love. Be Loue but there; let poor six yeares Be pos'd with the maturest feares 30 Man trembles at, you straight shall find Love knowes no nonage, nor the mind; 'Tis love, not yeares or limbs that can Make the martyr, or the man. Love touch't her heart, and lo it beates 35 High, and burnes with such braue heates; Such thirsts to dy, as dares drink vp A thousand cold deaths in one cup. Good reason: for she breathes all fire; Her white brest heaues with strong desire 40 Of what she may with fruitles wishes Seek for amongst her mother's kisses. Since 'tis not to be had at home She'l trauail to a martyrdom. No home for hers confesses she 45 But where she may a martyr be. She'l to the Moores; and trade with them _Moors_ For this vnualued diadem: She'l offer them her dearest breath, With Christ's name in't, in change for death: 50 She'l bargain with them; and will giue Them God; teach them how to liue In Him: or, if they this deny, For Him she'l teach them how to dy: So shall she leaue amongst them sown 55 Her Lord's blood; or at lest her own. _least_ Farewel then, all the World! adieu! Teresa is no more for you. Farewell, all pleasures, sports, and ioyes (Never till now esteemed toyes) 60 Farewell, what ever deare may bee, Mother's armes or father's knee: Farewell house, and farewell home! She's for the Moores, and martyrdom. Sweet, not so fast! lo thy fair Spouse 65 Whom thou seekst with so swift vowes; Calls thee back, and bidds thee come T'embrace a milder martyrdom. Blest powres forbid, thy tender life Should bleed vpon a barbarous knife: 70 Or some base hand haue power to raze Thy brest's chast cabinet, and vncase A soul kept there so sweet: O no, Wise Heaun will neuer have it so. Thou art Love's victime; and must dy 75 A death more mysticall and high: Into Loue's armes thou shalt let fall A still-suruiuing funerall. His is the dart must make the death Whose stroke shall tast thy hallow'd breath; 80 A dart thrice dip't in that rich flame Which writes thy Spouse's radiant name Vpon the roof of Heau'n, where ay It shines; and with a soueraign ray Beates bright vpon the burning faces 85 Of soules which in that Name's sweet graces Find euerlasting smiles: so rare, So spirituall, pure, and fair Must be th' immortall instrument Vpon whose choice point shall be sent 90 A life so lou'd: and that there be Fitt executioners for thee, The fair'st and first-born sons of fire Blest seraphim, shall leaue their quire, And turn Loue's souldiers, vpon thee 95 To exercise their archerie. O how oft shalt thou complain Of a sweet and subtle pain: Of intolerable ioyes: Of a death, in which who dyes 100 Loues his death, and dyes again And would for euer so be slain. And liues, and dyes; and knowes not why To liue, but that he thus may neuer leaue to dy. How kindly will thy gentle heart 105 Kisse the sweetly-killing dart! And close in his embraces keep Those delicious wounds, that weep Balsom to heal themselves with: thus When these thy deaths, so numerous 110 Shall all at last dy into one, And melt thy soul's sweet mansion; Like a soft lump of incense, hasted By too hott a fire, and wasted Into perfuming clouds, so fast 115 Shalt thou exhale to Heaun at last In a resoluing sigh, and then O what? Ask not the tongues of men; Angells cannot tell; suffice Thy selfe shall feel thine own full ioyes, 120 And hold them fast for euer there. So soon as thou shalt first appear, The moon of maiden starrs, thy white Mistresse, attended by such bright Soules as thy shining self, shall come 125 And in her first rankes make thee room; Where 'mongst her snowy family Immortall wellcomes wait for thee. O what delight, when reueal'd Life shall stand, And teach thy lipps Heaun with His hand; 130 On which thou now maist to thy wishes Heap vp thy consecrated kisses. What ioyes shall seize thy soul, when she, Bending her blessed eyes on Thee, (Those second smiles of Heau'n,) shall dart 135 Her mild rayes through Thy melting heart. Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee Glad at their own home now to meet thee. All thy good workes which went before And waited for thee, at the door, 140 Shall own thee there; and all in one Weaue a constellation Of crowns, with which the King thy Spouse Shall build vp thy triumphant browes. All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, 145 And thy paines sitt bright vpon thee, All thy sorrows here shall shine, All thy svfferings be diuine: Teares shall take comfort, and turn gemms And wrongs repent to diademms. 150 Eu'n thy death shall liue; and new- Dresse the soul that erst he slew. Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scarres As keep account of the Lamb's warres. Those rare workes where thou shalt leaue writt 155 Loue's noble history, with witt Taught thee by none but Him, while here They feed our soules, shall clothe thine there. Each heaunly word, by whose hid flame Our hard hearts shall strike fire, the same 160 Shall flourish on thy browes, and be Both fire to vs and flame to thee; Whose light shall liue bright in thy face By glory, in our hearts by grace. Thou shalt look round about, and see 165 Thousands of crown'd soules throng to be Themselues thy crown: sons of thy vowes The virgin-births with which thy soueraign Spouse Made fruitfull thy fair soul. Goe now And with them all about thee, bow 170 To Him; put on (Hee'l say) put on (My rosy loue) that thy rich zone Sparkling with the sacred flames Of thousand soules, whose happy names Heau'n keep vpon thy score: (Thy bright 175 Life brought them first to kisse the light, That kindled them to starrs,) and so Thou with the Lamb, thy Lord, shalt goe, And whereso'ere He setts His white Stepps, walk with Him those wayes of light, 180 Which who in death would liue to see, Must learn in life to dy like thee.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The original edition (1646) has this title, 'In memory of the Vertuous and Learned Lady Madre de Teresa, that sought an early Martyrdome;' and so also in 1648. 1670 agrees with 1652; only the Latin line above the portrait and the French verses are omitted.

The text of 1646 furnishes a number of variations corrective in part of all the subsequent editions. These are recorded below. 1648 agrees substantially with 1652: but a few unimportant readings peculiar to it are also given in these Notes.

_Various readings from 1646 edition._

Line 3, 'Wee need to goe to none of all.'

" 4, 'stout' for 'great.'

" 5, 'ripe and full growne.'

" 8, 'unto' for 'into;' the latter preferable.

" 10, 'Of those whose large breasts built a throne.'

" 11-13,

'For Love their Lord, glorious and great Weel see Him take a private seat, And make ...'

I have hesitated whether this ought not to have been adopted as our text; but it is a characteristic of CRASHAW to introduce abruptly long and short lines as in our text, and to carry a thought or metaphor through a number of lines.

Line 15, 'had' for 'has,' and 'a' for 'the.'

" 21, 'hath,' and so in 1648 edition.

" 23, our text (1652) misprints 'enough:' I correct from 1648.

" 25, 'had,' 1648 'hath.'

" 27, 1648, 'hath.'

" 31, 'wee' for 'you.'

Line 37, 'thirst' for 'thirsts,' and 'dare' for 'dares.'

" 38 spells 'coled.'

" 40, 'weake' for 'white;' the latter a favourite epithet with CRASHAW: 1648 'weake.'

Line 43, 1648 drops 'at' inadvertently.

" 44 spells 'travell:' 1648 has 'for' instead of 'to.'

" 45, 'her,' by misprint for 'her's.'

" 47, 1648 has 'try' for 'trade.'

" 49, 'Shee offers.' 57 spells 'adeiu.'

" 61, this line is by oversight dropped from our text (1652).

Line 70, spelled 'barborous' in our text, but I have adopted 'a' from 1646 and 1648.

Line 71, 'race' for 'raze;' a common contemporary spelling.

" 77, 'hand' for 'armes.'

" 93, 'The fairest, and the first borne Loves of fire.'

" 94, 'Seraphims,' the usual misspelling of the plural of seraph in our English Bible.

Line 104, 'To live, but that he still may dy.'

" 106, our text (1652) misreads 'sweetly-kissing.' I have adopted 'sweetly-killing' from 1646, 1648 and 1670.

Line 108, 1648 has 'thine' for 'his.'

" 118, 'disolving.'

" 123, our text (1652) inadvertently drops 'shalt,' and misreads 'you' for 'thou.' I accept the text of 1646, 1648 and 1670.

line 129, 'on.'

" 130, 'shee' for 'reueal'd Life;' and in next line 'her' for 'His.' Our text (1652) is preferable, as pointing to Christ the Life, our Life. See under lines 11-13.

Line 133, 'joy.'

" 146, 'set;' a common contemporary spelling.

" 147, this line, dropped inadvertently from our text (1652), is restored from 1646, 1648 and 1670.

Line 148, 'And' for 'All.'

" 151, 'Even thy deaths.'

" 152, 'Dresse the soul that late they slew.'

" 167 misprints 'nowes;' corrected in 1648, but not in 1670.

" 168 drops 'soueraign.' See under lines 11-13.

" 175, 'keeps.'

" 178, 'shall.' Cf. Rev. xiv. 5, as before. G.

AN APOLOGIE FOR THE FOREGOING HYMN,

AS HAUING BEEN WRITT WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS YET AMONG THE PROTESTANTS.[49]

Thus haue I back again to thy bright name 1 (Fair floud of holy fires!) transfus'd the flame I took from reading thee: 'tis to thy wrong I know, that in my weak and worthlesse song Thou here art sett to shine where thy full day 5 Scarse dawnes. O pardon, if I dare to say Thine own dear bookes are guilty. For from thence I learn't to know that Loue is eloquence. That hopefull maxime gaue me hart to try If, what to other tongues is tun'd so high, 10 Thy praise might not speak English too: forbid (By all thy mysteryes that here ly hidde) Forbid it, mighty Loue! let no fond hate Of names and wordes, so farr praeiudicate. Souls are not Spaniards too: one freindly floud 15 Of baptism blends them all into a blood. Christ's faith makes but one body of all soules, And Loue's that body's soul; no law controwlls Our free traffique for Heau'n; we may maintaine Peace, sure, with piety, though it come from Spain. 20 What soul so e're, in any language, can Speak Heau'n like her's, is my soul's country-man. O 'tis not Spanish, but 'tis Heau'n she speaks! 'Tis Heau'n that lyes in ambush there, and breaks From thence into the wondring reader's brest; 25 Who feels his warm heart hatcht into a nest Of little eagles and young loues, whose high Flights scorn the lazy dust, and things that dy. There are enow whose draughts (as deep as Hell) Drink vp all Spain in sack. Let my soul swell 30 With the strong wine of Loue: let others swimme In puddles; we will pledge this seraphim Bowles full of richer blood then blush of grape Was euer guilty of. Change we our shape (My soul) some drink from men to beasts, O then 35 Drink we till we proue more, not lesse, then men, And turn not beasts but angels. Let the King Me euer into these His cellars bring, Where flowes such wine as we can haue of none But Him Who trod the wine-presse all alone: 40 Wine of youth, life, and the sweet deaths of Loue; Wine of immortall mixture; which can proue Its tincture from the rosy nectar; wine That can exalt weak earth; and so refine Our dust, that at one draught, Mortality 45 May drink it self vp, and forget to dy.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The title in 1646 'Steps' is 'An Apologie for the precedent Hymne:' in 1648 the 'Flaming Heart' also precedes the 'Apologie,' and its title, 'Hymnes on Teresa,' is added. 1670 has 'was yet a Protestant.'

_Various readings from 1646._

Line 2, 'sea.'

" 9, 'heavenly.'

" 12, 'there' for 'here.'

" 14, 'prejudicate.'

" 16, 'one' for 'a:' 1670 has 'one.'

" 18, 1648 spells 'comptrolls.'

" 20, 'dwell in' for 'come from.'

" 21, 'soever.'

" 26, 'finds' for 'feels:' our text (1652) drops 'hatcht,' which we have restored after 1646 and 1648; 1670 reads 'hatch,' and TURNBULL follows blindly.

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 praescription; 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 aequall 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 learned 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 horned 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 IRAE, DIES ILLA:

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.