Heaven
O who will show me those delights on high? Echo. I.
Thou Echo, thou art mortall, all men know. Echo. No.
Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves? Echo. Leaves.
And are there any leaves, that still abide? Echo. Bide.
What leaves are they? impart the matter wholly. Echo. Holy.
Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse? Echo. Yes.
Then tell me what is that supreme delight? Echo. Light.
Light to the minde: what shall the will enjoy? Echo. Joy.
But are there cares and businesse with the pleasure? Echo. Leisure.
Light, joy, and leisure; but shall they persever? Echo. Ever.
George Herbert
Other author posts
Church-Musick
Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure Did through my bodie wound my minde, You took me thence; and in your house of pleasure A daintie lodging me assign'd Now I in you without a bodie move, Rising and falling with your w...
Josephs Coat
Wounded I sing, tormented I indite, Thrown down I fall into a bed, and rest: Sorrow hath chang'd its note: such is his will Who changeth all things, as him pleaseth best For well he knows, if but one grief and smart Among my many ha...
Church-Monuments
While that my soul repairs to her devotion, Here I entombe my flesh, that it May take acquaintance of this heap of dust; To which the blast of death's incessant motion,
Love
I Immortal Love, authour of this great frame, Sprung from that beautie which can never fade; How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name,
