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One day I was taking a leisurely stroll through the religious poetry in the back of the Liturgy of the Hours when a phrase from George Herbert’s "Love" jumped out at me. The poem is an old favorite of mine, and you would have thought it didn’t bear any more surprises for me. But that’s the way it is with a classic. This time through, I finally noticed "quick-ey’d Love."
Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey’d 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, 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 marr’d them; let my shame
Go where it does 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.
The host, of course, is God, welcoming…
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