Steps to the temple ; The delights of the Muses ; and, Carmen Deo Nostro by Ric. Crashaw ...
Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649., Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649. Delight of the Muses., Crashaw, Richard, 1613?-1649. Carmen Deo Nostro.

The Hymn of St. Thomas, in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.

WIth all the pow'rs my poor Heart hath
Of humble Love and Loyal Faith,
Thus low (my hidden life!) I bow to thee
Whom too much Love hath bow'd more low for me.
Down, down, proud sense! discourses dye,
Keep close, my soul's inquiring Eye!
Nor touch nor taste must look for more,
But each sit still in his own door.
Your Ports are all superfluous here,
Save that which lets in Faith, the Ear.
Faith is my skill; Faith can believe
As fast as Love new Laws can give.
Faith is my force; Faith strength affords
To keep pace with those pow'rful words:
And words more sure, more sweet then they
Love could not think, truth could not say.
O let thy wretch find that relief
Thou didst afford the faithful Thief;
Plead for me, Love! Alledge and show
That Faith has farther, here, to go,
Page  186 And less to lean on; because than
Though hid as God, wounds writ thee Man,
Thomas might touch; none but might see
At least the suffring side of thee;
And that too was thy self which thee did cover,
But here ev n that's hid too which hides the other.
Sweet consider then, that I
Though allow'd not Hand nor Eye
To teach at thy lov'd Face; nor can
Taste thee God, or touch thee Man;
Both yet believe and witness thee
My Lord too, and my God, as loud as he.
Help, Lord, my Hope increase;
And till my portion in thy peace.
Give Love for Life, nor let my days
Grow, but in new pow'rs to name thy Praise.
O dear memorial of that Death
Which lives still, and allows us Breath!
Rich, Royal Food! Bountiful Bread!
Whose use denies us to the Dead;
Whose vital gust alone can give
The same leave both to Eat and Live;
Live ever Bread of Loves, and be
My Life, my Soul, my surer self to me.
O soft self-wounding Pelican!
Whose Brest weeps Balm for wounded Man:
Ah this way bend thy benign Houd
To a bleeding Heart that g•…spes for Blood;
That Blood, whose least drops soveraign be
To wash my Worlds of sine from me.
Page  187 Come Love! Come Lord! and that long day
For which I languish, come away.
When this dry soul those Eyes shall see,
And drink the unseal'd sourse of thee.
When Glory's Sun Faith's shade shall chase,
Then for thy veil give me thy Face, Amen.