Love III
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, If I lack'd anything.
A guest,
I answer'd, worthy to be here: Love said,
You shall be he.
I the unkinde, the ungratefull?
Ah my deare, I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marr'd them: let my shame Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame? My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat: So I did sit and eat.
Glorie be to God on high, and on earth peace, good will towards men.
George Herbert
Other author posts
Bitter-Sweet
Ah, my deare angrie Lord, Since thou dost love, yet strike; Cast down, yet help afford; Sure I will do the like
Sinnes Round
Sorrie I am, my God, sorrie I am, That my offences course it in a ring My thoughts are working like a busie flame, Untill their cockatrice they hatch and bring:
Jordan II
When first my lines of heav'nly joyes made mention, Such was their lustre, they did so excell, That I sought out quaint words and trim invention; My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,
The Forerunners
The harbingers are come See, see their mark; White is their colour, and behold my head But must they have my brain
