Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume IV. The Higher Life. 1904. | | | | IV. Sabbath: Worship: Creed | | My Home | | Robert Herrick (1591–1674) |
| | A Thanksgiving to God for a House in the Green Parish of Devonshire |
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LORD, thou hast given me a cell | |
| Wherein to dwell, | |
| A little house, whose humble roof | |
| Is weather proof; | |
| Under the sparres of which I lie, | 5 |
| Both soft and drie; | |
| Where thou, my chamber for to ward, | |
| Hast set a guard | |
| Of harmlesse thoughts, to watch and keep | |
| Me while I sleep. | 10 |
| Low is my porch, as is my fate; | |
| Both void of state; | |
| And yet the threshold of my doore | |
| Is worn by the poore, | |
| Who hither come and freely get | 15 |
| Good words or meat. | |
| Like as my parlour, so my hall | |
| And kitchen’s small; | |
| A little butterie, and therein | |
| A little byn, | 20 |
| Which keeps my little loafe of bread | |
| Unchipt, unflead. | |
| Some sticks of thorn or briar | |
| Make me a fire, | |
| Close by whose loving coals I sit, | 25 |
| And glow like it. | |
| Lord, I confesse too, when I dine, | |
| The pulse is thine, | |
| And all those other bits that bee | |
| There placed by thee; | 30 |
| The worts, the purslain, and the messe | |
| Of water-cresse, | |
| Which of thy kindness thou hast sent; | |
| And my content | |
| Makes those and my belovèd beet | 35 |
| More sweet. | |
| ’T is thou that crown’st my glittering hearth | |
| With guiltlesse mirth, | |
| And giv’st me wassaile bowles to drink, | |
| Spiced to the brink. | 40 |
| Lord, ’t is thy plenty-dropping hand | |
| That soiles my land, | |
| And gives me for my bushel sowne, | |
| Twice ten for one. | |
| Thou mak’st my teeming hen to lay | 45 |
| Her egg each day, | |
| Besides my healthful ewes to bear | |
| Me twins each yeare; | |
| The while the conduits of my kine | |
| Run creame for wine. | 50 |
| All these and better thou dost send | |
| Me to this end, | |
| That I should render, for my part, | |
| A thankfulle heart, | |
| Which, fired with incense, I resigne | 55 |
| As wholly thine; | |
| But the acceptance, that must be, | |
| MY CHRIST, by thee. | | | |
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