A love poem

No, this is not a romantic love poem. It’s God stuff. What else could one post on Palm Sunday afternoon?

LOve bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
            Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
            From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
            If I lack’d any thing.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
            Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare,
            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 know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
            My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
            So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert, The Temple (1633)

I was reminded of this by a commenter on Facebook, who said — speaking of the current competition between Julian of Norwich and George Herbert — that anyone thinking of voting for Julian should read Love (III). Couldn’t agree more. You’ve read it now.

So go vote for George!

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1 Response

  1. Bob Chapman says:

    Oh, I’ve heard these words. Ralph Vaughn Williams had something to do with it.