George Herbert

A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine: Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws, Makes that and th' action fine.

Teach me, my God and King, In all things thee to see And what I do in any thing, To do it as for thee.

Then let wrath remove; Love will do the deed: For with love Stony hearts will bleed.

Throw away thy rod, Throw away thy wrath: O my God, Take the gentle path.

The fineness which a hymn or psalm affords If when the soul unto the lines accords.

Whereas if the heart be moved, Although the verse be somewhat scant, God doth supply the want.

And now in age I bud again, After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my only light, It cannot be That I am he

Who would have thought my shrivel'd heart Could have recovered greenness?

Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing.

Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast.

He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be.

But as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wild At every word, Methought I heard one calling, Child! And I reply'd, My Lord.

Call in thy death's head there: tie up thy fears.

Thy rope of sands, Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee Good cable, to enforce and draw, And be thy law, While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.

Thou tarriest, while I die, And fall to nothing: thou dost reign, And rule on high, While I remain In bitter grief: yet I am styl'd Thy child.

With sick and famish'd eyes, With doubling knees and weary bones, To thee my cries, To thee my groans, To thee my sighs, my tears ascend: No end?My throat, my soul is hoarse;

Do not beguile my heart, Because thou art My power and wisdom. Put me not to shame, Because I am Thy clay that weeps, thy dust that calls.

Surely if each saw another's heart, There would be no commerce, No sale or bargain pass: all would disperse, And live apart.

I gave to Hope a watch of mine; but he An Anchor gave to me.

Most things move th' under-jaw; the Crocodile not. Most things sleep lying; th' Elephant leans or stands.

Nothing wears clothes, but Man; nothing doth need But he to wear them.

Who goes to bed and does not pray, Maketh two nights to every day.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky; The dew shall weep thy fall tonight, For thou must die.