Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 If I be bound to pray for all that be in distress, surely I am bound, so far as it is in my power, to practice what I pray for.

Feast of John of the Cross, Mystic, Poet, Teacher, 1591 He who cannot forgive breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass.

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 Immortal Love, author of this great frame, Sprung from that beauty which can never fade; How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name, And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made, While mortal love doth all the title gain! Which siding with invention, they together Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain (Thy workmanship), and give thee share in neither. Wit fancies beauty, beauty raiseth wit: The world is theirs; they two play out the game, Thou standing by: and though thy glorious name Wrought our deliverance from th' infernal pit, Who sings thy praise? only a scarf or glove Doth warm our hands, and make them write of love.

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 Love is that liquor sweet and most divine Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be? My God, no hymn for Thee? My soul's a shepherd too: a flock it feeds Of thoughts, and words, and deeds. The pasture is Thy Word, the streams, Thy Grace Enriching all the place. Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers Out-sing the daylight hours.

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 It's true we cannot reach Christ's forti'th day Yet to go part of that religious way Is better than to rest: We cannot reach our Savior's purity; Yet we are bid, 'Be holy ev'n as He': In both let's do our best. Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone Is much more sure to meet with Him than one That traveleth by-ways; Perhaps my God, though He be far before, May turn, and take me by the hand, and more, May strengthen my decays. Yet, Lord, instruct us to improve our fast By starving sin, and taking such repast As may our faults control; That ev'ry man may revel at his door, Not in his parlor -- banquetting the poor, And among those, his soul.