ness like that which dwells in the ghostly beauty of
icicles shining in the moon.

But I almost reproach myself for introducing Crashaw thus. I had to point
out the fact, and now having done with it, I could heartily wish I had
room to expatiate on his loveliness even in such poems as _The Weeper_.

His _Divine Epigrams_ are not the most beautiful, but they are to me the
most valuable of his verses, inasmuch as they make us feel afresh the
truth which he sets forth anew. In them some of the facts of our Lord's
life and teaching look out upon us as from clear windows of the past. As
epigrams, too, they are excellent--pointed as a lance.

_Upon the Sepulchre of our Lord._

Here, where our Lord once laid his head,
Now the grave lies buried.

_The Widow's Mites._

Two mites, two drops, yet all her house and land,
Fall from a steady heart, though trembling hand;
The other's wanton wealth foams high and brave:
The other cast away--she only gave.

_On the Prodigal._

Tell me, bright boy! tell me, my golden lad!
Whither away so frolic? Why so glad?

What! _all_ thy wealth in council? _all_ thy state?
Are husks so dear? Troth, 'tis a mighty rate!

I value the following as a lovely parable. Mary is not contented: to see
the place is little comfort. The church itself, with all its memories of
the Lord, the gospel-story, and all theory about him, is but his tomb
until we find himself.

_Come, see the place-where the Lord lay._

Show me himself, himself, bright sir! Oh show
Which way my poor tears to himself may go.
Were it enough to show the place, and say,
"Look, Mary; here see where thy Lord once lay;"
Then could I show these arms of mine, and say,
"Look, Mary; here see where thy Lord once lay."

From one of eight lines, on the Mother Mary looking on her child in her
lap, I take the last two, complete in themselves, and I think best alone.

This new guest to her eyes new laws hath given:
'Twas once _look up_, 'tis now _look down to heaven_.

And here is perhaps his best.

_Two went up into the Temple to pray_.

Two went to pray? Oh rather say,
One went to brag, the other to pray.

One stands up close, and treads on high,
Where the other dares not lend his eye.

One nearer to God's altar trod;
The other to the altar's God.

This appears to me perfect. Here is the true relation between the forms
and the end of religion. The priesthood,