Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace <br /> Sends up my soul to seek thy face. <br />Thy blessed eyes breed such desire, <br />I dy in love’s delicious Fire. <br /> O love, I am thy Sacrifice. <br />Be still triumphant, blessed eyes. <br />Still shine on me, fair suns! that I <br />Still may behold, though still I dy. <br /> <br /> Though still I dy, I live again; <br />Still longing so to be still slain, <br />So gainfull is such losse of breath. <br />I dy even in desire of death. <br /> Still live in me this loving strife <br />Of living Death and dying Life. <br />For while thou sweetly slayest me <br />Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee.<br /><br />Richard Crashaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-song-12/
