Let it no longer be a forlorn hope
To wash an Ethiop :
He's wash'd, his gloomy skin a peaceful shade
For his white soul is made :
And now, I doubt not, the Eternal Dove
A black-faced house will love.
More verses by Richard Crashaw
- On The Water Of Our Lord's Baptism
- On The Still Surviving Marks Of Our Saviour's
- Wishes To His (Supposed) Mistress
- Samson To His Delilah
- Charitas Nimia; Or, The Dear Bargain