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George Herbert - The Bunch Of Grapes
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Joy, I did lock thee up: but some bad man
            Hath let thee out again:
And now, methinks, I am where I began
            Sev`n years ago: one vogue and vein,
            One aire of thoughts usurps my brain,
I did toward Canaan draw; but now I am
Brought back to the Red Sea, the sea of shame.

For as the Jews of old by God`s command
            Travell`d, and saw no town;
So now each Christian hath his journeys spann`d:
            Their storie pennes and sets us down.
            A single deed is small renown.
God`s works are wide, and let in future times;
His ancient justice overflows our crimes.

Then have we too our guardian fires and clouds.
            Our Scripture-dew drops fast:
We have our sands and serpents, tents and shrowds,
            Alas! our murmurings come not last.
            But where`s the cluster? where`s the taste
Of mine inheritance? Lord, if I must borrow,
Let me as well take up their joy, as sorrow.

But can he want the grape, who hath the wine?
            I have their fruit and more.
Blessed be God, who prosper`d Noah`s vine,
            And made it bring forth grapes good store.
            But much more him I must adore,
Who of the law`s sowre juice sweet wine did make,
Ev`n God himself, being pressed for my sake.
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