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Thursday, March 22, 2007

Season of the Soul: Discipline


Throw away your rod,
Throw away your wrath:
O my God,
Take the gentle path.

For my heart’s desire
Unto yours is bent:
I aspire
To a full consent.

Not a word or look
I affect to own,
But by book,
And your book alone.

Though I fail, I weep:
Though I halt in pace,
Yet I creep
To the throne of grace.

Then let wrath remove;
Love will do the deed:
For with love
Stony hearts will bleed.

Love is swift of foot;
Love's a man of war,
And can shoot,
And can hit from far.

Who can 'scape his bow?
That which wrought on thee,
Brought you low,
Needs must work on me.

Throw away your rod;
Though man frailties hath,
You are God:
Throw away your wrath.

George Herbert

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