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?’

      ‘My dear, then I will serve.’

‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’

      So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert