Poems by Robert Southwell
Conscience
... That lies too high for base contempt, ...
New Heaven, New War
... The crib his trench, hay stalks his stakes, ...
The Burning Babe
... As though his floods should quench his flames which with his tears were fed ...
Content and Rich
... Faith guides my wit, Love leads my will, ...
A Child My Choice
... Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, whose hand no deed defiled ...
Look Home
... Most graceful all, yet thought may grace them more ...
Man's Civil War
... Would to her perch my thoughts retire, ...
The Nativity of Christ
... From death, from dark, from deafness, from despairs ...
Love's Servile Lot
... Death calls her up, Shame drives her out, ...
Behold A Silly Tender Babe
... With joy approach, O Christian Wight! ...
New Prince, New Pomp
... The prince himself is come from heaven ...
Scorn Not The Least
... These fleet afloat while those do fill the dish ...
Upon The Image Of Death
... A hearse doth hang, which doth me tell ...
Times Go By Terms
... Times go by turns, and chances change by course, ...
