Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1883-05-25
A SEVENTEENTH CENTURY POET.
Richard CrasIlnw and his Poerns

No shetcn Oi tue English literature OF
the middle of the Seventeenth century
can pretend to be complete if it does not
tell something of that serted throng of
poets militant who gave in their allegiance
TO Laud and became ornaments and then
martyrs of the High Church party. 1t
has remained for DIR. Grosart to discover
that Richard Crashaw, who has hitherto
been supposed to have been born in 1916.
must really have seen the light first in
1912. His father, Rev. William Crashaw.
vicar of Whtechapel and preacher at the
Temple, was n notable Puritan divine.
Forty years of age when his son was born,
William Crashaw had grown up within
the vehement and instant fear of Papal
aggression, and had but become fiercer in
his love for a simple Professionalism under
the irritating pressure of James the First's s
decisions. In October, 1926, the boys
father died, leaving him an orphan at ia.
HIS childhood is all absolute blank, until
he was elected, ut the rather advanced age
OF ~, to be scholar ut Pembroke Hall.
Cambridge. He married, matriculatei
pensioner of Pembroke, on March 26. 1632.
n Bachelor of Arts in 1924, was transfer
red to Peterhouse Nov. 26, 1886, was
elected fellow Of that college in 1857,
and became master of Arts in 1888. He
was finally elected, in company with a
large number of other Royalist gentle
men by the Earl of Manchester. One of
his earliest poems contained the follow.
ing choice morceau:
For the laurel IN his verse;
uhe sui en- cypress DER his hcaise
For silver-crOwned head,
ulrty pillow In deaths bed
FOR so dear so deep trust
oau requltal, so much dust
Whlle these verses belong to the Ben
johnson school, there is marvellous
touch of brightness and color about them
which instantly stamped him as one of
natures poets. In his small volume of
Latin verses there is one of singular
value. 1t is concert on the miracle of
the water turned into wine at the wedding
feabt oi the Saviour in His days of linear.
nation, and is thus felicitously transla-
ted
The conscious water saw its God and blushed.
When Mrs. Nicholas Ferrar died, the
lady who had become more than mother
to young Crashaw, his nature unfolded
and blossomed into sanity life. From
the hour of her death he never slept in
bed again, but for the rest of his life
wrapped himself in a bearskin and Law
upon the floor when nature overwhelmed
him and obliged him to take brief snatch.
es OF sleep between his long prayers and
vigils. In 1864, when the Royalist party
was defeated, Crashaw entered the Cath
olic Church. Cowley refers to this con-
version to Rome in the following delicate
verse:
prardon, my Mother Church, II consent,
rnn nal angels led him when from thee he went;
r0r even In error sure no danger is
When Joined with mnch piiy as his.
An mighty God, with shame SNEAK | and grief
All that our greatest faults wAe AaN in belief a s'''
One OF Crashaw's pieces, which belong
TO the highest order OF lyrical writing, il
the following:
Ihou Art Loves victim, and must die
ueath more mystical and high
into Loves arms thou shalt let fall
still surviving funeral
HIS Is the dart must make thv death
whose stroke will taste thy hallowed breath
NSinh XNSaI, thrice Ii,a dipped IN that rich name
Upon the roof Of Heaven, where ave
y shines and with sovereign ray
neals bright upon the burning faces
" souls which In that names sweet Rracss
rlhu everlasting smiles. So rare
| 70 Spiritual pure and fair,
Must ne the immortal instrument
| Upon whose choice point shall be spent
] 4 ni iiie 80 Loved and that thore be
/ ~ execufioners for thee.
Best seraphlm, shall leave their choir,
| And turn Loves soldiers, upon thee
To exercise their archery
In his poem Of ''The Flaming Heart,
addressed to st. Theresa, he strikes upon
a golden chord Of ecstacy.
Let all Thy scattered shafts OF light, that NAV
Among the leaves Of thy large books OF day
Combined against this breast at once break In
| And take away from me myself and sin
| This gracious robbery shall thy bounty be,
And my best fortunes such fair spOils of me
o thou undaunted daughter OF desires
by all thy dover Of lights and nres
Nv ali the eagle In se all ths dave