Love bade me welcome; yet my sould 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, ungratefull? Ah my dear
I can not look on thee."
Love took over my hand, and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I've 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 down to eat
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