The Agony

Philosophers have measured mountains,Fathomed the depths of seas, of states, and kings,Walked with a staff to heaven, and traced fountains: But there are two vast, spacious thingsThe which to measure it doth more behoove:Yet few there are that sound them: Sin and Love.

Who would know Sin, let him repairUnto Mount Olivet; there shall he seeA man so wrung with pains that all his hair, His skin, his garments bloody be.Sin is that press and vice, that forceth painTo hunt his cruel food through every vein.

Who knows not Love, let him assayAnd taste that juice, which on the cross a pikeDid set again abroach; then let him say If ever he did taste the like.Love is that liquor sweet and most divineWhich my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

George Herbert (1639)