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 any thing.

A guest, I answered, 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 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.

Love (III)/George Herbert and the Seventeenth-Century Religious Poets/(W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1978)