A few days after Halloween, I realized that I had not taken a single picture. We had a great time, but I have no visual reminders of my children this year. So, instead of posting a Halloween update, I thought I would offer you a 17th Century religous poem by George Herbert that I discovered in my History of British Literature class. I think it is beautiful, and quite moving. I hope you enjoy it.
Love (3)
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrace in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lacked anything.
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, 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 marred 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. So
I did sit and eat.
