Poem by Richard Crashaw

Upon the Infant Martyrs

To see both blended in one flood,
The mothers’ milk, the children’s blood,
Makes me doubt if heaven will gather
Roses hence, or lilies rather.

1. On the Prodigal
2. On Mr. G. Herbert's Book
3. Satan
4. Charitas Nimia; or, The Dear Bargain
5. On the Miracle of the Multiplied Loaves

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