Love III by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,

     Guilty of dust and sin.

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 unkind, ungrateful? ah my dear,

     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," 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.