Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SHEPHERDS' SONG, by RICHARD CRASHAW Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: We saw thee in thy balmy nest Last Line: Ourselves become our own best sacrifice! Variant Title(s): A Hymn Sung As By The Shepherds Subject(s): Shepherds & Shepherdesses | ||||||||
WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest, Young dawn of our eternal day; We saw Thine eyes break from the East, And chase the trembling shades away: We saw Thee, and we blest the sight, We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light. Poor world, said I, what wilt thou do To entertain this starry stranger? Is this the best thou canst bestow -- A cold and not too cleanly manger? Contend, the powers of heaven and earth, To fit a bed for this huge birth. Proud world, said I, cease your contest, And let the mighty babe alone; The phoenix builds the phoenix' nest, Love's architecture is His own. The babe, whose birth embraves this morn, Made His own bed ere He was born. I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow, Come hovering o'er the place's head, Off'ring their whitest sheets of snow, To furnish the fair infant's bed. Forbear, said I, be not too bold; Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold. I saw th' obsequious seraphim Their rosy fleece of fire bestow, For well they now can spare their wings, Since Heaven itself lies here below. Well done, said I; but are you sure Your down, so warm, will pass for pure? No, no, your King 's not yet to seek Where to repose His royal head; See, see how soon His new-bloom'd cheek 'Twixt mother's breasts is gone to bed! Sweet choice, said we; no way but so, Not to lie cold, you sleep in snow! She sings Thy tears asleep, and dips Her kisses in Thy weeping eye; She spreads the red leaves of Thy lips, That in their buds yet blushing lie. She 'gainst those mother diamonds tries The points of her young eagle's eyes. Welcome -- tho' not to those gay flies, Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings, Slippery souls in smiling eyes -- But to poor shepherds, homespun things, Whose wealth 's their flocks, whose wit 's to be Well read in their simplicity. Yet, when young April's husband show'rs Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed, We'll bring the first-born of her flowers, To kiss Thy feet and crown Thy head. To Thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep The shepherds while they feed their sheep. To Thee, meek Majesty, soft King Of simple graces and sweet loves! Each of us his lamb will bring, Each his pair of silver doves! At last, in fire of Thy fair eyes, Ourselves become our own best sacrifice! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVING SHEPHERDESS by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE SHEPHERD by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON A TIMOROUS SHEPHERD by MORRIS GILBERT BISHOP THE HEART'S RETURN by EDWIN MARKHAM THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM THE GREEN SHEPHERD by LOUIS SIMPSON AUTOCHTHONIC TERCET: 2 by CESAR VALLEJO THE STORY THE SHEPHERD TELLS THE SHEEP by LUCILLE CLIFTON THE SHEPHERD, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE 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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