Love

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 anything.
A guest, I answered, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I, the uninvited guest, did earn your stare;
For, being but dust, fashioned in error here
Thou shouldst say, in darkness I was born;
For by thy love and arms I call.

• George Herbert