I
Immortal Love, author
of this great frame,
Sprung from that
beauty which can never fade,
How hath man parceled out Thy glorious name,
And thrown it on that dust which Thou hast
made,
While mortal love doth all the title gain!
Which siding with
Invention, they together
Bear all the sway,
possessing heart and brain,
(Thy workmanship) and give Thee share in
neither.
Wit fancies beauty, beauty raiseth wit;
The world is theirs, they two
play out the game,
Thou standing by: and though
Thy glorious name
Wrought our deliverance from th' infernal pit,
Who sings Thy praise? Only a scarf or glove
Doth warm our hands, and make them write of
love.
II
Immortal Heat, O let
Thy greater flame
Attract the lesser
to it; let those fires
Which shall consume
the world first make it tame,
And kindle in our hearts such true desires.
As may consume our lusts, and make Thee
way:
Then shall our
hearts pant Thee, then shall our brain
All her invention
on Thine altar lay,
And there in hymns send back Thy fire
again.
Our eyes shall see Thee, which before saw
dust,
Dust blown by wit, till that
they both were blind:
Thou shalt recover all Thy
goods in kind,
Who wert disseized by usurping
lust:
All knees shall bow to Thee; all wits shall rise,
And praise Him Who did make and mend our eyes.
III
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, the 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.
