Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,I was going to post Book 4 of The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis too, but it turns out it's far too long. That link's only the first page...
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack’d any thing.
A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare,
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, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.
Saturday, 10 April 2004
Mark Shea ain't the only body that can post poetry ya know, even poetry by George Herbert:
2004-04-10T08:58:00+01:00
Mark
poetry|
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