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