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.Â