George Herbert — Love

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,        &nbsp Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack        &nbsp From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning        &nbsp If I lack'd anything. 'A guest,' I answer'd, 'worthy to be here:'        &nbsp Love said, 'You shall be he.' 'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,        &nbsp I cannot look on Thee.' Love took my hand and smiling did reply,        &nbsp 'Who made the eyes but I?' 'Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame        &nbsp Go where it doth deserve.' 'And know you not,' says Love, 'Who bore the blame?'        &nbsp 'My dear, then I will serve.' 'You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat.'        &nbsp So I did sit and eat.