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Tuesday
Mar182008

Poetry of the Cross: The Agonie.

Philosophers have measur’d mountains,
Fathom’d the depths of seas, of states, and kings,
Walk’d with a staffe to heav’n, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound them; Sinne and Love.


Who would know Sinne, let him repair
Unto mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair,
His skinne, his garments bloudie be.
Sinne is that presse and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruell food through ev’ry vein.


Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the crosse a pike
Did set again abroach; then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love in that liquour sweet and most divine,
Which my God feels as bloud; but I, as wine.

George Herbert, 1633

More Poetry of the Cross

You are welcome to join me in my celebration of Poetry of the Cross if you wish. Just post a cross-centered poem any day of this week (or every day of this week) and send me the link to your poem. I’ll link back to your poem in the next Poetry of the Cross post.

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Reader Comments (1)

Here is a poem I have put up.

http://theupwardcall.blogspot.com/2008/03/poems-of-cross.html

March 18, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterKim in ON

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