Eyes are vocal, tears have tongues, \ And there are words not made with lungs

Richard Crashaw

Mots clés rabp

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Tis not the work of force but skill
To find the way into man's will.
Tis love alone can hearts unlock.
Who knows the WORD, he needs not knock.

Richard Crashaw

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Come and let us live my Deare,
Let us love and never feare,
What the sowrest Fathers say:
Brightest Sol that dies to day
Lives againe as blithe to morrow,
But if we darke sons of sorrow
Set; o then, how long a Night
Shuts the Eyes of our short light!
Then let amorous kisses dwell
On our lips, begin and tell
A Thousand, and a Hundred, score
An Hundred, and a Thousand more,
Till another Thousand smother
That, and that wipe of another.
Thus at last when we have numbred
Many a Thousand, many a Hundred;
Wee’l confound the reckoning quite,
And lose our selves in wild delight:
While our joyes so multiply,
As shall mocke the envious eye.

Richard Crashaw

Mots clés out-of-catullus

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And when life's sweet fable ends,
Soul and body part like friends;
No quarrels, murmurs, no delay;
A kiss, a sigh, and so away.

Richard Crashaw

Mots clés life death

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