Charitas Nimia, or the Dear Bargain
Lord, what is man? why should he coste TheeSo dear? what had his ruin lost Thee?Lord, what is man? that thou hast ouerboughtSo much a thing of nought?
Loue is too kind, I see; and canMake but a simple merchant-man.'Twas for such sorry merchandise,Bold painters haue putt out his eyes.
Alas, sweet Lord, what wer't to TheeIf there were no such wormes as we?Heau'n ne're the lesse still Heau'n would be,Should mankind dwellIn the deep Hell:What haue his woes to doe with Thee?
Let him goe weepO're his own wounds;Seraphims will not sleepNor spheares let fall their faithfull rounds.Still would the youthfull spirits sing;And still Thy spatious palace ring;Still would those beauteous ministers of lightBurn all as bright.
And bow their flaming heads before Thee:Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee;Still would those euer-wakefull sons of fireKeep warm Thy prayseBoth nights and dayes,And teach Thy lou'd name to their noble lyre.
Let froward dust then doe it's kind;And giue it self for sport to the proud wind.Why should a peice of peeuish clay plead sharesIn the aeternity of Thy old cares?Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awfull brest to seeWhat mine own madnesses haue done with me?
Should not the king still keepe his throneBecause some desperate fool's vndone?Or will the World's illustrious eyesWeep for euery worm that dyes.
Will the gallant sunE're the lesse glorious run?Will he hang down his golden headOr e're the sooner seek his Western bed,Because some foolish flyGrowes wanton, and will dy?
If I were lost in misery,What was it to Thy Heaun and Thee?What was it to Thy pretious bloodIf my foul heart call'd for a floud?
What if my faithlesse soul and IWould needs fall inWith guilt and sin;What did the Lamb, that He should dy?What did the Lamb, that He should need,When the wolf sins, Himself to bleed?
If my base lust,Bargain'd with Death and well-beseeming dust:Why should the whiteLamb's bosom writeThe purple nameOf my sin's shame?Why should His vnstaind brest make goodMy blushes with His Own heart-blood?
O my Saviovr, make me seeHow dearly Thou hast payd for me,That lost again my life may proue,As then in death, so now in loue.
Words in this poem
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
- putt n.
- A stroke made on the putting green to play the ball into a hole.
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
- faithfull a.
- Full of faith, or having faith; disposed to believe, especially in the declarations and promises of God.
- youthfull a.
- Not yet mature or aged; young.
- beauteous a.
- Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
- adore v. t.
- To worship with profound reverence; to pay divine honors to; to honor as deity or as divine. [OE. aouren, anouren, adoren, OF. aorer, adorer, F. adorer, fr. L. adorare; ad + orare to speak, pray, os, oris, mouth. In OE. confused with honor, the French pr]
- wakefull a.
- Not sleeping; indisposed to sleep; watchful; vigilant.
- awfull a.
- Oppressing with fear or horror; appalling; terrible; as, an awful scene.
- desperate a.
- Without hope; given to despair; hopeless. [L. desperatus, p. p. of desperare. See Despair, and cf. Desperado.]
- glorious a.
- Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
- needs adv.
- Of necessity; necessarily; indispensably; -- often with must, and equivalent to of need. [Orig. gen. of need, used as an adverb. Cf. - wards.]
- lust v. i.
- To list; to like. [AS. lystan. See Lust, n., and cf. List to choose.]
- beseeming n.
- Appearance; look; garb.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Charitas Nimia, or the Dear Bargain is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Complete Works of Richard Crashaw, Volume I, Project Gutenberg ebook #38549; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Richard Crashaw, Charitas Nimia, or the Dear Bargain, in Steps to the Temple and Other Poems (1646–1652), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #38549, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/crashaw-poems/charitas-nimia-or-the-dear-bargain.html, id L12085.
Form and metre
Charitas Nimia, or the Dear Bargain is 66 lines in 12 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 70% of the lines: octosyllabic couplets. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.3 syllables. 2 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 38% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in octosyllabic couplets, other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABB theeA · theeA · ouerboughtB · noughtB
- 2 AABB canA · manA · merchandiseB · eyesB
- 3 AAABBA theeA · weA · beA · dwellB · hellB · theeA
- 4 A-A-BBCC weepA · wounds · sleepA · rounds · singB · ringB · lightC · brightC
- 5 AABCCB theeA · theeA · fireB · prayseC · dayesC · lyreB
- 6 AABBCC kindA · windA · sharesB · caresB · seeC · meC
- 7 AABB throneA · vndoneA · eyesB · dyesB
- 8 AABB-- sunA · runA · headB · bedB · fly · dy
- 10 -AA-BB i · inA · sinA · dy · needB · bleedB
- 11 AABBCCDD lustA · dustA · whiteB · writeB · nameC · shameC · goodD · bloodD
- 12 AABB seeA · meA · proueB · loueB
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Lord, what is man? why should he coste Thee | 9 | ········· |
| So dear? what had his ruin lost Thee? | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Lord, what is man? that thou hast ouerbought | 9 | ········· |
| So much a thing of nought? | 6 | ······ |
| Loue is too kind, I see; and can | 8 | ········ |
| Make but a simple merchant-man. | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| 'Twas for such sorry merchandise, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Bold painters haue putt out his eyes. | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Alas, sweet Lord, what wer't to Thee | 8 | ˘/······ |
| If there were no such wormes as we? | 8 | ········ |
| Heau'n ne're the lesse still Heau'n would be, | 8 | ········ |
| Should mankind dwell | 4 | ·//· |
| In the deep Hell: | 4 | ···· |
| What haue his woes to doe with Thee? | 8 | ········ |
| Let him goe weep | 4 | ···· |
| O're his own wounds; | 4 | ···· |
| Seraphims will not sleep | 6 | ······ |
| Nor spheares let fall their faithfull rounds. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Still would the youthfull spirits sing; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And still Thy spatious palace ring; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Still would those beauteous ministers of light | 10 | ···/˘˘/˘·· |
| Burn all as bright. | 4 | ···· |
| And bow their flaming heads before Thee: | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Still thrones and dominations would adore Thee; | 11 | ····˘/˘·˘/· |
| Still would those euer-wakefull sons of fire | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| Keep warm Thy prayse | 4 | ···· |
| Both nights and dayes, | 4 | ···· |
| And teach Thy lou'd name to their noble lyre. | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Let froward dust then doe it's kind; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And giue it self for sport to the proud wind. | 10 | ·········· |
| Why should a peice of peeuish clay plead shares | 9 | ········· |
| In the aeternity of Thy old cares? | 10 | ·········· |
| Why shouldst Thou bow Thy awfull brest to see | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| What mine own madnesses haue done with me? | 10 | ···/˘˘···· |
| Should not the king still keepe his throne | 8 | ········ |
| Because some desperate fool's vndone? | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Or will the World's illustrious eyes | 9 | ····˘/˘˘· |
| Weep for euery worm that dyes. | 7 | ······· |
| Will the gallant sun | 5 | ··/˘· |
| E're the lesse glorious run? | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| Will he hang down his golden head | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Or e're the sooner seek his Western bed, | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Because some foolish fly | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Growes wanton, and will dy? | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| If I were lost in misery, | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| What was it to Thy Heaun and Thee? | 8 | ········ |
| What was it to Thy pretious blood | 8 | ········ |
| If my foul heart call'd for a floud? | 8 | ········ |
| What if my faithlesse soul and I | 8 | ········ |
| Would needs fall in | 4 | ···· |
| With guilt and sin; | 4 | ···· |
| What did the Lamb, that He should dy? | 8 | ········ |
| What did the Lamb, that He should need, | 8 | ········ |
| When the wolf sins, Himself to bleed? | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| If my base lust, | 4 | ···· |
| Bargain'd with Death and well-beseeming dust: | 10 | /˘····˘/˘· |
| Why should the white | 4 | ···· |
| Lamb's bosom write | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The purple name | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Of my sin's shame? | 4 | ···· |
| Why should His vnstaind brest make good | 7 | ······· |
| My blushes with His Own heart-blood? | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| O my Saviovr, make me see | 7 | ······· |
| How dearly Thou hast payd for me, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| That lost again my life may proue, | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| As then in death, so now in loue. | 8 | ········ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.