Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HYMN IN THE ASSUMPTION (2), by RICHARD CRASHAW Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Hark! She is called, the parting hour is come Last Line: Sweet angels come, and sing the rest. Variant Title(s): In The Assumption;on The Assumption Of The Virgin Mary;on The Glorious Assumption Of Our Blessed Lady [or Virgin] Subject(s): Assumption, The (theology); Mary. Mother Of Jesus; Women In The Bible; Virgin Mary | ||||||||
THE HYMN. Hark! she is call'd, the parting houre is come. Take thy Farewell, poor world! heavn must goe home. A peice of heav'nly earth; Purer and brighter Then the chast starres, whose choise lamps come to light her While through the crystall orbes, clearer then they She climbes; and makes a farre more milkey way. She's calld. Hark, how the dear immortall dove Sighes to his sylver mate rise up, my love! Rise up, my fair, my spotlesse one! The winter's past, the rain is gone. The spring is come, the flowrs appear No sweets, but thou, are wanting here. Come away, my love! Come away, my dove! cast off delay, The court of heav'n is come To wait upon thee home; Come come away! The flowrs appear. Or quickly would, wert thou once here. 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. 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; The fountains murmur; and each loftyest tree Bowes low'st his heavy top, to look for thee. Come away, my love. Come away, my dove &c. She's call'd again. And will she goe? When heavn bidds come, who can say no? Heavn calls her, and she must away. Heavn will not, and she cannot stay. GOE then; goe GLORIOUS. On the golden wings Of the bright youth of heavn, that sings Under so sweet a Burthen. Goe, Since thy dread son will have it so. And while thou goest, our song and we Will, as we may, reach after thee. HAIl, holy Queen of humble hearts! We in thy prayse will have our parts. Thy pretious name shall be Thy self to us; and we With holy care will keep it by us. We to the last Will hold it fast And no ASSUMPTION shall deny us. All the sweetest showres Of our fairest flowres Will we strow upon it. Though our sweets cannot make It sweeter, they can take Themselves new sweetnes from it. MARIA, men and Angels sing MARIA, mother of our KING. LIVE, rosy princesse, LIVE. And may the bright Crown of a most incomparable light Embrace thy radiant browes. O may the best Of everlasting joyes bath thy white brest. LIVE, our chast love, the holy mirth Of heavn; the humble pride of earth. Live, crown of woemen; Queen of men. Live mistresse of our song. And when Our weak desires have done their best, Sweet Angels come, and sing the rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MADONNA by KATHARINE LEE BATES BALLADE TO OUR LADY OF CZESTOCHOWA by HILAIRE BELLOC OUR LORD AND OUR LADY by HILAIRE BELLOC PLASTIC BEATITUDE by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR A SONG OF MARY by LUCILLE CLIFTON ISLAND MARY by LUCILLE CLIFTON MARY'S DREAM by LUCILLE CLIFTON A HYMN [TO THE NAME AND] IN HONOR OF SAINT TERESA by RICHARD CRASHAW A SONG [OF DIVINE LOVE] by RICHARD CRASHAW AN EPITAPH UPON HUSBAND AND WIFE WHO DIED AND WERE BURIED by RICHARD CRASHAW |
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