Teares, quickly fled,
More quotes by Richard Crashaw
A happy soul, that all the way
To heaven hath a summer’s day.
Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.
’Tis love, not years or limbs that can
Make the martyr, or the man.
And I, what is my crime I cannot tell,
Vnless it be a crime to haue lou'd too well.
Attribution
Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Richard Crashaw (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.