Holiness on the head, <br />Light and perfection on the breast, <br />Harmonious bells below, raising the dead <br />To led them unto life and rest. <br />Thus are true Aarons dressed. <br /> <br />Profaneness in my head, <br />Defects and darkness in my breast, <br />A noise of passions ringing me for dead <br />Unto a place where is no rest. <br />Poor priest thus am I dressed. <br /> <br />Only another head <br />I have, another heart and breast, <br />another music, making live not dead, <br />without whom I could have no rest: <br />In him I am well dressed. <br /> <br />Christ is my only head, <br />My alone only heart and breast, <br />My only music, striking me even dead; <br />That to the old man I may rest, <br />And be in him new dressed. <br /> <br />So holy in my head, <br />Perfect and light in my dear breast, <br />My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead, <br />But lives in me while I do rest) <br />Come people; Aaron's dressed.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/aaron/
