Lord, how I am all ague, when I seek
What I have treasur’d in my memory!
Since, if my soul make even with the week,
Each seventh note by right is due to thee.
I find there quarries of pil’d vanities,
But shreds of holiness, that dare not venture
To show their face, since cross to thy decrees:
There the circumference earth is, heav’n the centre.
In so much dregs the quintessence is small:
The spirit and good extract of my heart
Comes to about the many hundredth part.
Yet Lord restore thine image, hear my call:
And though my hard heart scarce to thee can groan,
Remember that thou once didst write in stone.
(George Herbert)
More Poetry from George Herbert:
George Herbert Poems based on Topics: Faces, Memory- The Church-Porch. Perirrhanterium (George Herbert Poems)
- The Church Militant (George Herbert Poems)
- Longing (George Herbert Poems)
- Miserie (George Herbert Poems)
- Home (George Herbert Poems)
- The Search (George Herbert Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Faces Poems, Memory PoemsBased on Keywords: decrees, dregs, circumference, extract, treasur, ague, hundredth, vanities, shreds, pil, quarries