A Songby Richard Crashaw
Original Language English
Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace
Sends up my soul to seek thy face.
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,
I dy in love's delicious Fire.
O love, I am thy Sacrifice.
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes.
Still shine on me, fair suns! that I
Still may behold, though still I dy.
Though still I dy, I live again;
Still longing so to be still slain,
So gainfull is such losse of breath.
I dy even in desire of death.
Still live in me this loving strife
Of living Death and dying Life.
For while thou sweetly slayest me
Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee.
|-- from Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty, Edited by Alan Jacobs|
|Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty||The Oxford Book of Mystical Verse||Metaphysical Poetry: (Penguin Classics)||Teresa of Avila: The Progress of a Soul||Metaphysical Poetry: An Anthology (Dover Thrift Edition)|