| 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 | 5 |
| 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." | 10 |
| 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?" | 15 |
| "My dear, then I will serve." | |
| "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat." | |
| So I did sit and eat. |