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George Herbert - The Invitation
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Come ye hither all, whose taste
                         Is your waste;
Save your cost, and mend your fare.
God is here prepar`d and drest,
                         And the feast,
God, in whom all dainties are. 

Come ye hither all, whom wine
                         Doth define,
Naming you not to your good:
Weep what ye have drunk amisse,
                         And drink this,
Which before ye drink is bloud. 

Come ye hither all, whom pain
                         Doth arraigne,
Bringing all your sinnes to sight:
Taste and fear not: God is here
                         In this cheer,
And on sinne doth cast the fright.

Come ye hither all, whom joy
                         Doth destroy,
While ye graze without your bounds:
Here is joy that drowneth quite
                         Your delight,
As a floud the lower grounds.

Come ye hither all, whose love
                         Is your dove,
And exalts you to the skie:
Here is love, which, having breath
                         Ev`n in death,
After death can never die.

Lord I have invited all,
                         And I shall 
Still invite, still call to thee:
For it seems but just and right
                         In my sight,
Where is all, there all should be.
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