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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 entrance 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.
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