Love
by George
Herbert
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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 nearer to me, sweetly
questioning, |
If I lacked anything.
|
'A guest', I answered, 'worthy to
be here.' |
Love said, 'You shall be he.' |
'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah,
my dear, |
I cannot look at 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.
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George Herbert
| Classic Poems |
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