Vol I No. 7
English Reformation

"Lent" by George Herbert

by Sydney Nicole Thomas

Welcome deare feast of Lent: who loves not thee,

He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie,

                                               But is compos’d of passion.

The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church sayes, now:

Give to thy Mother, what thou wouldst allow

                                               To ev’ry Corporation.

The humble soul compos’d of love and fear

Begins at home, and layes the burden there,

                                               When doctrines disagree.

He sayes, in things which use hath justly got,

I am a scandall to the Church, and not

                                               The Church is so to me.

True Christians should be glad of an occasion

To use their temperance, seeking no evasion,

                                               When good is seasonable;

Unlesse Authoritie, which should increase

The obligation in us, make it lesse,

                                               And Power it self disable.

Besides the cleannesse of sweet abstinence,

Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense,

                                               A face not fearing light:

Whereas in fulnesse there are sluttish fumes,

Sowre exhalations, and dishonest rheumes,

                                               Revenging the delight.

Then those same pendant profits, which the spring

And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing,

                                               And goodnesse of the deed.

Neither ought other mens abuse of Lent

Spoil the good use; lest by that argument

                                               We forfeit all our Creed.

It ‘s true, we cannot reach Christ’s fortieth day;

Yet to go part of that religious way,

                                               Is better than to rest:

We cannot reach our Savior’s purity;

Yet are bid, Be holy ev’n as he.

                                               In both let ‘s do our best.

Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone,

Is much more sure to meet with him, than one

                                               That travelleth by-ways:

Perhaps my God, though he be far before,

May turn, and take me by the hand, and more

                                               May strengthen my decays.

Yet Lord instruct us to improve our fast

By starving sin and taking such repast

                                               As may our faults control:

That ev’ry man may revel at his door,

Not in his parlor; banqueting the poor,

                                         And among those his soul.

–from The Temple, 1633