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Poem by George Herbert


A Wreath


A wreathed garland of deserved praise,
Of praise deserved, unto thee I give,
I give to thee, who knowest all my wayes,
My crooked winding wayes, wherein I live,
Wherein I die, not live : for life is straight,
Straight as a line, and ever tends to thee,
To thee, who art more farre above deceit,
Then deceit seems above simplicitie.
Give me simplicitie, that I may live,
So live and like, that I may know thy wayes,
Know them and practise them : then shall I give
For this poore wreath, give thee a crown of praise. 



George Herbert


George Herbert's other poems:
  1. Sin's Round
  2. Love (Immortal Love, authour of this great frame)
  3. Charms and Knots
  4. Clasping of Hands
  5. The Temper


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