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: Mighty God,
I cannot look on Thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made your 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, Lord, then I will serve.
Sit by my side, come and dine with me.
So I did sit and eat.