| 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 lack'd anything. | |
| 'A guest,' I answer'd, '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 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.' | |
| So I did sit and eat. |
FYI: Simone Weil said that as she was reading this poem "Christ himself came down and He took me."
Thank you, Michael Allen!
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