Paradise

I bless thee, Lord, because I GROW
Among thy trees, which in a ROW
To thee both fruit and order OW

What open force, or hidden CHARM
Can blast my fruit, or bring me HARM,
While the enclosure is thine ARM?

Enclose me still for fear I START,
But to me rather sharp and TART,
Then let me want thy hand and ART.

When thou dost greater judgments SPARE,
And with thy knife but prune and PARE,
Ev’n fruitful tress more fruitful ARE.

Such sharpness shows the sweetest FRIEND,
Such cuttings rather heal than REND,
And such beginnings touch their END.

another piece by G. Herbert. Genius.

ALTAR

A Broken A L T AR, Lord thy servant rears,
Made of heart, and cemented with tears:
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workman’s tool hath touched the same.

A heart alone
Is such a stone
As nothing but
Thy power 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.
Oh let thy blessed sacrifice be mine,
And sanctify this A L T A R to be thine.

The Temple-George Herbert