Christ Crucified

By Richard Crashaw

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THY restless feet now cannot go

  For us and our eternal good,

As they were ever wont. What though

  They swim, alas! in their own flood?

Thy hands to give Thou canst not lift,

  Yet will Thy hand still giving be;

It gives, but O, itself's the gift!

  It gives tho' bound, tho' bound 'tis free!