To The Blessed Sacrament - Poem by Henry Constable
WHEN thee (O holy sacrificed Lambe)
In severed sygnes I whyte and liquide see,
As on thy body slayne I thynke on thee,
Which pale by sheddyng of thy bloode became.
And when agayne I doe behold the same
Vayled in whyte to be receav’d of mee,
Thou seemest in thy syndon wrapt to bee
Lyke to a corse, whose monument I am.
Buryed in me, vnto my sowle appeare,
Pryson’d in earth, and bannisht from thy syght,
Lyke our forefathers who in lymbo were,
Cleere thou my thoughtes, as thou did’st gyve them light,
And as thou others freed from purgyng fyre
Quenche in my hart the flames of badd desyre.
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