Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Christ Crucified

Thy restless feet now cannot go

For us and our eternal good,

As they were ever wont. What though

They swim, alas! in their own flood?

 

Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift,

Yet will Thy hand still giving be;

It gives, but O, itself’s the gift!

It gives tho’ bound, tho’ bound ’tis free!

r
Written by
Richard Crashaw
1613-1649 / Male / English
Lines·Words
8·56
AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write