Friday, April 13, 2018

Love

I came across this beautiful poem by George Herbert (1593-1633) this week. It's the kind of poem you need to read a few times over to get more and more from it.

       Love

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
 Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
 From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
 If I lacked anything.

“A guest," I answered, “worthy to be here”:
 Love said, “You shall be he.”
“I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
 I cannot look on thee.”
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
 “Who made the eyes but I?”

“Truth, Lord; but I have marred them; let my shame
 Go where it doth deserve.”
“And know you not," says Love, “who bore the blame?”
 “My dear, then I will serve.”
“You must sit down," says Love, “and taste my meat.”
 So I did sit and eat.

No comments:

Post a Comment