Affliction (I)

When first thou didst entice to thee my heart,

        I thought the service brave;

So many joyes I writ down for my part,

        Besides what I might have

Out of my stock of naturall delights,

Augmented with thy gracious benefits.

I looked on thy furniture so fine,

        And made it fine to me;

Thy glorious household-stuffe did me entwine,

      And 'tice me unto thee.

Such starres I counted mine: both heav'n and earth

Payd me my wages in a world of mirth.

What pleasures could I want, whose King I serv'd,

      Where joyes my fellows were?

Thus argu'd into hopes, my thoughts reserv'd

      No place for grief or fear;

Therefore my sudden soul caught at the place,

And made her youth and fiercenesse seek thy face:

At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses;

      I had my wish and way;

My dayes were straw'd with flow'rs and happinesse;

      There was no moneth but May.

But with my yeares sorrow did twist and grow,

And made a partie unawares for wo.

My flesh began unto my soul in pain,

      Sicknesses cleave my bones,

Consuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein,

      And tune my breath to groans:

Sorrow was all my soul; I scarce beleeved,

Till grief did tell me roundly, that I liv'd.

When I got health, thou took'st away my life,

      And more; for my friends die:

My mirth and edge was lost; a blunted knife

      Was of more use then I.

Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend,

I was blown through with ev'ry storm and winde.

Whereas my birth and spirit rather took

      The way that takes the town;

Thou didst betray me to a lingring book,

      And wrap me in a gown.

I was entangled in the world of strife,

Before I had the power to change my life.

Yet, for I threaten'd oft the siege to raise,

      Not simpring all mine age,

Thou often didst with academick praise

      Melt and dissolve my rage.

I took thy sweetned pill, till I came neare;

I could not go away, nor persevere.

Yet lest perchance I should too happie be

      In my unhappinesse,

Turning my purge to food, thou throwest me

      Into more sicknesses.

Thus doth thy power cross-bias me, not making

Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.

Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me

      None of my books will show:

I reade, and sigh, and wish I were a tree;

      For sure then I should grow

To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust

Her household to me, and I should be just.

Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek;

      In weaknesse must be stout;

Well, I will change the service, and go seek

      Some other master out.

Ah my deare God! though I am clean forgot,

Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.

2. the service: to be servant to. brave: splendid. 25. began: began to complain in the words which follow. 37-40. As one of the great Herbert family (his father belonged to a collateral branch of the family of the Earls of Pembroke), George Herbert had town or court ambitions even when made lecturer in rhetoric.