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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.