COME ye hither all, whose taste Is your waste; Save your cost, and mend your fare. God is here prepar'd and drest, And the feast, God, in whom all dainties are. Come ye hither all, whom wine Doth define, Naming you not to your good: Weep what ye have drunk amisse, And drink this, Which, before ye drink, is bloud. Come ye hither all, whom pain Doth arraigne, Bringing all your sinnes to sight: Taste, and fear not; God is here In this cheer, And on sinne doth cast the fright. Come ye hither all, whom joy Doth destroy, While ye graze without your bounds: Here is joy that drowneth quite Your delight, As a floud the lower grounds. Come ye hither all, whose love Is your dove, And exalts you to the skie: Here is love, which, having breath Ev'n in death, After death can never die. Lord, I have invited all, And I shall Still invite, still call to thee; For it seems but just and right In my sight, Where is all, there all should be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLUMBUS [JANUARY, 1487] by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY THE KNIGHTS: DEMOS REJUVENATED by ARISTOPHANES WHEN KREISLER PLAYS by FRANCES BARTLETT PSALM 98 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE AN IRISH FANTASY by JOHN FRANKLIN BLUNT A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 3 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NORTHWARD FLIGHT AT DAWN by GAIL BROOK BURKET |