The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw Volume I Part 24
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And serves my purer sight, onely to beat Downe my proud thought, and leave it in a trance?
Frowne I: and can great Nature keep her seat?
And the gay starrs lead on their golden dance?
Can His attempts above still prosp'rous be, Auspicious still, in spight of h.e.l.l and me?
XXVII.
Hee has my Heaven (what would He more?) whose bright And radiant scepter this bold hand should beare: And for the never-fading fields of light, My faire inheritance, He confines me here To this darke house of shades, horrour and night, To draw a long-liv'd death, where all my cheere Is the solemnity my sorrow weares, That mankind's torment waits upon my teares.
XXVIII.
Darke, dusky Man, He needs would single forth, To make the partner of His Owne pure ray: And should we powers of Heav'n, spirits of worth, Bow our bright heads before a king of clay?
It shall not be, said I, and clombe the North, Where never wing of angell yet made way: What though I mist my blow? yet I strooke high, And to dare something, is some victory.
XXIX.
Is He not satisfied? meanes He to wrest h.e.l.l from me too, and sack my territories?
Vile humane nature means He not t' invest (O my despight!) with His divinest glories?
And rising with rich spoiles upon His brest With His faire triumphs fill all future stories?
Must the bright armes of Heav'n, rebuke these eyes?
Mocke me, and dazle my darke mysteries?
x.x.x.
Art thou not Lucifer? he to whom the droves Of stars that gild the Morne, in charge were given?
The nimblest of the lightning-winged loves, The fairest, and the first-borne smile of Heav'n?
Looke in what pompe the mistrisse planet moves Rev'rently circled by the lesser seaven: Such, and so rich, the flames that from thine eyes, Opprest the common-people of the skyes.
x.x.xI.
Ah wretch! what bootes thee to cast back thy eyes, Where dawning hope no beame of comfort showes?
While the reflection of thy forepast joyes, Renders thee double to thy present woes: Rather make up to thy new miseries, And meet the mischiefe that upon thee growes.
If h.e.l.l must mourne, Heav'n sure shall sympathize, What force cannot effect, fraud shall devise.
x.x.xII.
And yet whose force feare I? have I so lost My selfe? my strength too with my innocence?
Come try who dares, Heav'n, Earth, what ere doth boast A borrowed being, make thy bold defence.
Come thy Creator too: What though it cost Me yet a second fall? wee'd try our strengths: Heav'n saw us struggle once; as brave a fight Earth now should see, and tremble at the sight.
x.x.xIII.
Thus spoke th' impatient prince, and made a pause: His foule hags rais'd their heads, and clapt their hands, And all the powers of h.e.l.l in full applause Flourisht their snakes, and tost their flaming brands.
We (said the horrid sisters) wait thy lawes, Th' obsequious handmaids of thy high commands: Be it thy part, h.e.l.l's mighty lord, to lay On us thy dread command, our's to obey.
x.x.xIV.
What thy Alecto, what these hands can doe, Thou mad'st bold proofe upon the brow of Heav'n, Nor should'st thou bate in pride, because that now To these thy sooty kingdomes thou art driven.
Let Heav'n's Lord chide above lowder than thou In language of His thunder, thou art even With Him below: here thou art lord alone, Boundlesse and absolute: h.e.l.l is thine owne.
x.x.xV.
If usuall wit, and strength will doe no good, Vertues of stones, nor herbes: use stronger charmes, Anger and love, best hookes of humane blood.
If all faile, wee'l put on our proudest armes, And pouring on Heav'n's face the Sea's huge flood Quench His curl'd fires: wee'l wake with our alarmes Ruine, where e're she sleepes at Nature's feet: And crush the World till His wide corners meet.
x.x.xVI.
Reply'd the proud king, O my crowne's defence, Stay of my strong hopes, you of whose brave worth, The frighted stars tooke faint experience, When 'gainst the Thunder's mouth we marched forth: Still you are prodigall of your Love's expence In our great projects, both 'gainst Heav'n and Earth: I thanke you all, but one must single out: Cruelty, she alone shall cure my doubt.
x.x.xVII.
Fourth of the cursed knot of hags is shee, Or rather all the other three in one; h.e.l.l's shop of slaughter shee do's oversee, And still a.s.sist the execution.
But chiefly there do's she delight to be, Where h.e.l.l's capacious cauldron is set on: And while the black soules boile in their own gore, To hold them down, and looke that none seeth o're.
x.x.xVIII.
Thrice howl'd the caves of Night, and thrice the sound, Thundring upon the bankes of those black lakes, Rung through the hollow vaults of h.e.l.l profound: At last her listning eares the noise o're takes, She lifts her sooty lampes, and looking round, A gen'rall hisse from the whole tire of snakes Rebounding, through h.e.l.l's inmost cavernes came, In answer to her formidable name.
x.x.xIX.
'Mongst all the palaces in h.e.l.l's command, No one so mercilesse as this of her's.
The adamantine doors, for ever stand Impenetrable, both to prai'rs and teares; The walls inexorable steele, no hand Of Time, or teeth of hungry Ruine feares.
Their ugly ornaments are the b.l.o.o.d.y staines Of ragged limbs, torne sculls, and dasht-out braines.
XL.
There has the purple Vengeance a proud seat Whose ever-brandisht sword is sheath'd in blood: About her Hate, Wrath, Warre and Slaughter sweat; Bathing their hot limbs in life's pretious flood: There rude impetuous Rage do's storme and fret, And there as master of this murd'ring brood, Swinging a huge sith stands impartiall Death: _scythe_ With endlesse businesse almost out of breath.
XLI.
For hangings and for curtaines, all along The walls (abominable ornaments!) Are tooles of wrath, anvills of torments hung; Fell executioners of foule intents, Nailes, hammers, hatchets sharpe, and halters strong, Swords, speares, with all the fatall instruments Of Sin and Death, twice dipt in the dire staines Of brothers' mutuall blood, and fathers' braines.
XLII.
The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw Volume I Part 24
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The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw Volume I Part 24 summary
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