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.
More verses by Richard Crashaw
- On The Sepulchre Of Our Lord
- On Marriage
- Euthanasia
- The Flaming Heart
- A Hymn To The Name And Honour Of The Admirable Saint Teresa