George Herbert (1593-1633)

Just recognize him by his oddly-shaped poems. 


"The Pulley"


When God at first made man,
Having a glasse of blessings standing by;
Let us (said he) poure on him all we can:
Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,
      Contract into a span.


      So strength first made a way;
Then beautie flow'd, then wisdome, honour, pleasure:
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that alone, of all his treasure,
      Rest in the bottome lay.


      For if I should (said he)
Bestow this jewell also on my creature,
He would adore my gifts in stead of me,
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:
      So both should losers be.


      Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlesnesse:
Let him be rich and wearie, that at least,
If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse
       May tosse him to my breast. 




"The Collar"


I STRUCK the board, and cry’d, No more ;
                                  I will abroad.
     What ? shall I ever sigh and pine ?
My lines and life are free ; free as the rode,
     Loose as the winde, as large as store.
                                  Shall I be still in suit ?
     Have I no harvest but a thorn
     To let me bloud, and not restore
What I have lost with cordiall fruit ?
                                  Sure there was wine,
     Before my sighs did drie it : there was corn
                Before my tears did drown it.
     Is the yeare onely lost to me ?
                Have I no bayes to crown it ?
No flowers, no garlands gay ? all blasted ?
                                  All wasted ?
     Not so, my heart : but there is fruit,
                                  And thou hast hands.
                Recover all thy sigh-blown age
On double pleasures : leave thy cold dispute
Of what is fit, and not forsake thy cage,
                                  Thy rope of sands,
Which pettie 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.
                                  Away ; take heed:
                                  I will abroad.
Call in thy deaths head there : tie up thy fears.
                                  He that forbears
                To suit and serve his need,
                                  Deserves his load.
But as I rav’d and grew more fierce and wilde,
                                  At every word,
     Methought I heard one calling, Childe :
                                  And I reply’d, My Lord.




"Easter Wings"

LORD, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poor:

With thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories :
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.

My tender age in sorrow did beginne:
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sinne,
That I became
Most thinne.

With thee
Let me combine,
And feel this day thy victorie,
For, if I imp my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.

"The Altar"

A broken A L T A R, Lord, thy servant reares,
Made of a heart, and cemented with teares:
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workmans tool hath touch’d the same.
A H E A R T alone
Is such a stone,
As nothing but
Thy pow’r doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame,
To praise thy Name;
That, if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
O let thy blessed S A C R I F I C E be mine,
And sanctifie this A L T A R to be thine.