Love bade me
welcome; yet my
soul drew back,
Guilty of
dust and
sin.
But
quick-eyed Love, observing me grow
slackFrom 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 unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear!
I cannot look on Thee.'
Love took my hand, and smiling deeply 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,' 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.
- George Herbert