Love bade me welcome, yet
my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd 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, the
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.”
i have read this post a number of times now.
each time i read it, it is better than the last.
it tastes better than the last...
taste, and see, that the Lord is good.
that is what you find.
Posted by: jan | August 22, 2010 at 01:46 PM