George Herbert


AWAKE, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns ;
Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth ;
Unfold thy forehead, gathered into frowns ;
    Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth :
                                            Awake, awake,
And with a thankful heart His comforts take.
    But thou dost still lament, and pine, and cry,
    And feel His death, but not His victory.

Arise, sad heart ; if thou dost not withstand,
    Christ's resurrection thine may be ;
Do not by hanging down break from the hand
    Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee :
                                            Arise, Arise;
    And with His burial linen drie thine eyes.
Christ left His grave-clothes, that we might, when grief
Draws tears or blood, not want a handkerchief.

Herbert, George. The Poems of George Herbert. Ernest Rhys, ed.
London: Walter Scott, 1886. 111.

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