Love

In tribute to George Herbert

Love came a-calling; I bade Love enter in.
How could I boast such a one to win?
What can I yield, what offer unto Love?
‘I will instruct thee,’ Love replied above.

So, at Love’s feet I sat with hands laid bare,
and pockets empty of all worldly care.
Love set no plate of silver, but manna sweet;
heaven’s hospitality; mercy for meat.

‘Thou brought’st thyself,’ quoth Love, ‘both gift and lack.
Be taught to take, that thou mayst give it back.’
I, stubborn-hearted, yet, Love lodg’d within my room,
drew curtains wide, and let clear light bloom.

When Love would go, mine hands were fill’d
with things never I sought to keep or build.
Yet though Love riseth, Love ne’er leaves the place.
The lamp is alight, and Love is grace upon grace.