Love (III)

Listen to:

Love (III) (1:15)

by George Herbert 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back

                              Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack

                             From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,

                             If I lacked any thing.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:

                             Love said, You shall be he.

I the unkind, 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 marred 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.

Love (II)

Listen to:

Love (II) (1:10)

by George Herbert 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Immortal Heat, O let Thy greater flame

      Attract the lesser to it; let those fires

      Which shall consume the world first make it tame,

And kindle in our hearts such true desires

As may consume our lusts, and make Thee way:

      Then shall our hearts pant Thee, then shall our brain

      All her invention on Thine altar lay,

And there in hymns send back Thy fire again.

Our eyes shall see Thee, which before saw dust,

      Dust blown by wit, till that they both were blind:

      Thou shalt recover all Thy goods in kind,

Who wert disseized by usurping lust:

All knees shall bow to Thee; all wits shall rise,

And praise Him Who did make and mend our eyes.

How do I love thee?

Listen to:

How do I love thee? (1:13)

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.