George Herbert — A Dialogue

Man. SWEETEST Saviour, if my soul        &nbsp Were but worth the having, Quickly should I then control        &nbsp Any thought of waving. But when all my care and pains Cannot give the name of gains To Thy wretch so full of stains, What delight or hope remains? Saviour. What, child, is the balance thine,        &nbsp Thine the poise and measure? If I say, 'Thou shalt be Mine,'        &nbsp Finger not My treasure. What the gains in having thee Do amount to, only He Who for man was sold can see; That transferr'd th' accounts to Me. Man. But as I can see no merit        &nbsp Leading to this favour, So the way to fit me for it        &nbsp Is beyond my savour. As the reason, then, is Thine, So the way is none of mine; I disclaim the whole design; Sin disclaims and I resign. Saviour. That is all: if that I could        &nbsp Get without repining; And My clay, My creature, would        &nbsp Follow My resigning; That as I did freely part With My glory and desert, Left all joys to feel all smart---- Man. Ah, no more! Thou break'st my heart!