“Love (III)” — George Herbert

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 lack’d anything.
“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?”
“His blood did, Lord, preserve
My life, and I, a thrall to sin, did pay
My debt each day?”
“I, the same Lord, am He,” said Love,
“And I am here to save.”
“Nor let Thy hand be rough, for I am weak,”
I cried, “nor let Thy wave
O’erwhelm me, lest I drown!” Love said, “Fear not,
I will not let you rot.”
“Love bade me welcome,” and so I went
Into the light and day;
For I knew now, though late, the one true Friend,
Who calls and lights the way.