When my devotions could not pierceThy silent ears;Then was my heart broken, as was my verse:My breast was full of fearsAnd disorder:My best thoughts, like a brittle bow,Did fly asunder:Each took his way; some would to pleasures go,Some to the wars and thunderOf alarms.As good go any where, they say,As to benumbBoth knees and heart, in crying night and dayCome, come, my God, O come,But no hearing.O that thou shouldst give dust a tongueTo cry to thee,And then not hear it crying! all day longMy heart was in my knee,But no hearing.Therefore my soul lay out of sight,Untun'd, unstrung:My feeble spirit, unable to look rightLike a nipt blossom, hungDiscontented.O cheer and tune my heartless breast,Defer no time;That so thy favours granting my request,They and my mind may chime,And mend my rhyme.
George Herbert was born in Montgomery, in Wales, in 1593. He took orders in the Anglican church, and lived most of his adult life in England, but represented Montgomery in Parliament at the end of his life. He died young-ish, of tuberculosis, in 1633. I like the way he lets the last line of each stanza hang, until finally God hears his request.
It's Dewithon, the Welsh reading month at Paula's BookJotter.
"I like the way he lets the last line of each stanza hang, until finally God hears his request."ReplyDelete
Glad you did!Delete
I love that line: My heart was in my knee.ReplyDelete
I think he's really a wonderful devotional poet.Delete