Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CHURCH RENTS AND SCHISMES, by GEORGE HERBERT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CHURCH RENTS AND SCHISMES, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Brave rose, (alas!) where art thou? In the chair
Last Line: Which falls by night, and poure it out for you!


BRAVE Rose, alas! where art thou? in the chair
Where thou didst lately so triumph and shine,
A worm doth sit, whose many feet and hair
Are the more foul, the more thou wert divine.
This, this, hath done it; this did bite the root
And bottome of the leaves: which when the winde
Did once perceive, it blew them under foot,
Where rude unhallow'd steps do crush and grinde
Their beauteous glories. Onely shreds of thee,
And those all bitten, in thy chair I see.

Why doth my Mother blush? is she the rose,
And shows it so? Indeed Christs precious bloud
Gave you a colour once; which when your foes
Thought to let out, the bleeding did you good,
And made you look much fresher then before.
But, when debates and fretting jealousies
Did worm and work within you more and more,
Your colour faded, and calamities
Turned your ruddie into pale and bleak;
Your health and beautie both began to break.

Then did your sev'rall parts unloose and start:
Which when your neighbours saw, like a northwinde
They rushed in, and cast them in the dirt
Where Pagans tread. O Mother, deare and kinde,
Where shall I get me eyes enough to weep,
As many eyes as starres? since it is night,
And much of Asia and Europe fast asleep,
And ev'n all Africk; would at least I might
With these two poore ones lick up all the dew,
Which falls by night, and poure it out for you!





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