Love (III)
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 near to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked anything?
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said,
You should be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? ah my deare,
I can not 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.
George Herbert
(1595-1633)
