Love by George Herbert

LOVE bade me welcome, but 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 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 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 you know 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.



This poem can be found in many places, including The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1918