LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back, <br /> Guilty of dust and sin. <br />But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack <br /> From my first entrance in, <br />Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning <br /> If I lack'd anything. <br /> <br />'A guest,' I answer'd, 'worthy to be here:' <br /> Love said, 'You shall be he.' <br />'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear, <br /> I cannot look on Thee.' <br />Love took my hand and smiling did reply, <br /> 'Who made the eyes but I?' <br /> <br />'Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame <br /> Go where it doth deserve.' <br />'And know you not,' says Love, 'Who bore the blame?' <br /> 'My dear, then I will serve.' <br />'You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat.' <br /> So I did sit and eat.<br /><br />George Herbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-13/
