Love bade me welcome -- George Herbert

Guest poem submitted by Gerry Rowe:

(Poem #820) Love bade me welcome 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 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 and eat. -- George Herbert

This poem may have a strong appeal even to those who, like me, are not
practitioners of religion but who are not entirely averse thereto, and
sometimes wish that they could find some of what is so attractively
described in its verses.

In the first verse Love is presented as a person of unknown gender,
appearance or occupation to be imagined as you will. This is not the love
laid down as an obligation in the Christian Ten Commandments (love thy
neighbour); still less is it the passionate love that may entail so much
struggle and potential hardship. It is a soothing love of welcome, an
observant, encouraging, solicitous, hospitable love that provides exactly
what the narrator needs (acceptance, anticipation and painless removal of
feelings of unworthiness) and demands nothing more than that the narrator
sit down and partake of a meal of love itself! What love could better that?

In the course of the second and third verses it becomes clear that this Love
is in fact the christian god, a vision of a version of Christ.

In this poem Love leads the narrator to self-acceptance. "My dear, then I
will serve." 'Serve' is used interestingly here: more, in my opinion, in the
sense of 'to be sufficient, good enough' than in the more obvious one.

The metrical scheme (iambic pentameters alternating with lines of three feet
of two syllables) allows for enjambement (but without creating long phrases)
and also for short, stand-alone questions and statements. Excellent for the
variations required by dialogue.

I know of two choral settings of this poem from the twentieth century: by
Vaughan Williams in his Five Mystical Songs and by John Tavener in a
standalone version. The latter is exceptionally good and contributes a good
deal to my appreciation of this beautiful poem.

Gerry Rowe.

[Minstrels Links]

Poem #391, The Pulley  -- George Herbert
Poem #567, Easter Wings -- George Herbert
Poem #546, The Sick Rose -- William Blake
Poem #771, The Divine Image -- William Blake
Poem #26, Jerusalem  -- William Blake
Poem #66, The Tyger  -- William Blake
Poem #97, The Fly  -- William Blake
Poem #368, Auguries of Innocence  -- William Blake
Poem #330, A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning  -- John Donne
Poem #384, Song  -- John Donne
Poem #403, A Lame Beggar  -- John Donne
Poem #465, The Sun Rising  -- John Donne
Poem #796, Death Be Not Proud (Holy Sonnets: X) -- John Donne

Easter Wings -- George Herbert

Guest poem submitted by Suresh Ramasubramanian:

(Poem #567) Easter Wings Lord, Who createdst man in wealth and store, Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he became Most poore: 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. -- George Herbert

A beautiful metaphysical poem.  Here, the wings are literal, not just
the 'wings of poesy' (Keats, wasn't it?) - notice the phrasing and
punctuation, giving a butterfly-like shape to the whole poem.

Carefully arranged in related sequences, they explore and praise God as
Herbert discovered Him within the fluctuations of his own experience.
These poems are intensely personal prayers, besides being beautiful (and
artistic) poetry.

Suresh.

There is a Herbert bio on Luminarium:
http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/herbert/herbbio.htm

[thomas adds]

Two other 'visual poems' to have featured on the Minstrels are

'A Prayer to the Sun', by Geoffrey Hill: poem #349

'Landscape: I', by bpNichol poem #497

Herbert's most famous poem is probably 'The Pulley', which you can read
at poem #391

The Pulley -- George Herbert

(Poem #391) The Pulley When God at first made man, Having a glass of blesings standing by; Let us (said he) pour on him all we can: Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span. So strength first made a way; The beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honour, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that alone of all his treasure Rest in the bottom lay. For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead 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 restlessness: Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast. -- George Herbert

While I don't much care for metaphysical poetry as a genre, I do enjoy the
occasional poem, such as today's.

Like most metaphysical poems, it has a strong central image around which the
poem is woven, relying primarily on this image to carry the main thrust of
the poem[1]. Unlike Donne, though, Herbert depended less heavily on
conceits and startling metaphors; the poem's theme is simple and
straightforward enough, but nonetheless pleasing - I enjoyed both the basic
concept and the neat twist on the Pandora's Box myth.

[1] One of the reasons I tend to dislike metaphysical poetry - if the
central image fails to grip me, the rest of the poem seldom has enough to
make up for it. Whereas in, say, a Romantic poem, I often disagree with, or
am unmoved by what the poet is saying, but nonetheless enjoy the poem itself
for the secondary images, the phrases, the use of language etc. (And since I
feel compelled to throw in the occasional caveat, note that this is a
strictly personal response, and not necessarily indicative of any real or
accepted quality of metaphysical poetry)

Biography and Assessment:

 Herbert, George

  b. April 3, 1593, Montgomery Castle, Wales
  d. March 1, 1633, Bemerton, Wiltshire, Eng.

  English religious poet, a major metaphysical poet, notable for the purity
  and effectiveness of his choice of words.

  A younger brother of Edward Herbert, 1st Baron Herbert of Cherbury, a
  notable secular metaphysical poet, George in 1610 sent his mother for New
  Year's two sonnets on the theme that the love of God is a fitter subject
  for verse than the love of woman, a foreshadowing of his poetic and
  vocational bent.

  Educated at home, at Westminster School, and at Trinity College,
  Cambridge, he was in 1620 elected orator of the university, a position
  that he described as "the finest place in the university." His two
  immediate predecessors in the office had risen to high positions in the
  state, and Herbert was much involved with the court. During Herbert's
  academic career, his only published verse was that written for special
  occasions in Greek and Latin. By 1625 Herbert's sponsors at court were
  dead or out of favour, and he turned to the church, being ordained deacon.
  He resigned as orator in 1627 and in 1630 was ordained priest and became
  rector at Bemerton. He became friends with Nicholas Ferrar, who had
  founded a religious community at nearby Little Gidding, and devoted
  himself to his rural parish and the reconstruction of his church.
  Throughout his life he wrote poems, and from his deathbed he sent a
  manuscript volume to Ferrar, asking him to decide whether to publish or
  destroy them. Ferrar published them with the title The Temple: Sacred
  Poems and Private Ejaculations in 1633.

  Herbert described his poems as "a picture of the many spiritual conflicts
  that have passed between God and my soul, before I could subject mine to
  the will of Jesus, my Master, in whose service I have now found perfect
  freedom." Herbert shares his conflicts with John Donne, the archetypal
  metaphysical poet and a family friend. As well as personal poems, The
  Temple includes doctrinal poems, notably "The Church Porch," the first in
  the volume, and the last, "The Church Militant." Other poems are concerned
  with church ritual.

  The main resemblance of Herbert's poems to Donne's is in the use of common
  language in the rhythms of speech. Some of his poems, such as "The Altar"
  and "Easter Wings," are "pattern" poems, the lines forming the shape of
  the subject, a practice Joseph Addison in the 18th century called "false
  wit." Samuel Taylor Coleridge in the 19th century wrote of Herbert's
  diction, "Nothing can be more pure, manly, and unaffected." Herbert was a
  versatile master of metrical form and all aspects of the craft of verse.
  Though he shared the critical disapproval given the metaphysical poets
  until the 20th century, he was still popular with readers.

        -- EB

Links:

  We've run a couple of Donne's poems in the past: poem #330, poem #384.

  As usual, if you feel the lack of metaphysical poetry, feel free to send
  some in :)

- martin