Logos Virtual Library: George Herbert: The Temple: The Church: Employment (2)

George Herbert

George Herbert (1593-1633)

The Temple

Employment (2)

He that is weary, let him sit.

My soul would stirre
And trade in courtesies and wit,

Quitting the furre
To cold complexions needing it.

Man is not starre, but a quick coal

Of mortall fire:
Who blows it not, nor doth controll

A faint desire,
Let his own ashes choke his soul.

When th’ elements did for place contest

With him, whose will
Ordain’d the highest to be best;

The earth sat still,
And by the others is opprest.

Life is a businesse, not good cheer;

Ever in warres.
The sunne still shineth there or here,

Whereas the starres
Watch an advantage to appeare.

Oh that I were an Orenge-tree,

That busie plant!
Then should I ever laden be,

And never want
Some fruit for him that dressed me.

But we are still too young or old;

The man is gone,
Before we do our wares unfold:

So we freeze on,
Untill the grave increase our cold.