Christian Art | George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Temper (1)
George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Temper (1)
How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rymes
Gladly engrave thy love in steel,
If what my soul doth feel sometimes,
My soul might ever feel!
Although there were some fourtie heav’ns, or more,
Sometimes I peere above them all;
Sometimes I hardly reach a score,
Sometimes to hell I fall.
O rack me not to such a vast extent;
Those distances belong to thee:
The world’s too little for thy tent,
A grave too big for me.
Wilt thou meet arms with man, that thou dost stretch
A crumme of dust from heav’n to hell?
Will great God measure with a wretch?
Shall he thy stature spell?
O let me, when thy roof my soul hath hid,
O let me roost and nestle there:
Then of a sinner thou art rid,
And I of hope and fear.
Yet take thy way; for sure thy way is best:
Stretch or contract me thy poore debter:
This is but tuning of my breast,
To make the musick better.
Whether I flie with angels, fall with dust,
Thy hands made both, and I am there:
Thy power and love, my love and trust
Make one place ev’ry where.
George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Temper (1)
In this poem, Herbert reflects on the immense and transcendent nature of God compared to limitations of human experience. The poem explores Herbert’s yearning fully to experience divine love and presence, while grappling with inevitable fluctuations of human faith and emotion. Herbert expresses a wish permanently to feel the closeness and joy sometimes sensed in God’s presence. Yet, this experience is shown to be inconsistent, varying between moments of near-heavenly insight and others of despair, represented as ‘falling to hell’.
The poet addresses God’s vastness directly, remarking that the scale of God’s being is too great for human comprehension. Through this contrast between the human and the divine, Herbert emphasizes the inadequacy of human language and capacity to fully encompass or even understand the divine, suggesting that the scope of God is ‘too little for the world’ and yet a grave ‘too big for me’. The idea that God might even engage with humanity on such a vast scale—that divine understanding stretches from ‘heaven to hell’—brings a sense of awe mingled with questioning: how can the infinite meet with the finite?
As the poem progresses, Herbert submits to God’s will, asking only to find refuge ‘when thy roof my soul hath hid’, a request for spiritual sanctuary where they might be freed from the burdens of ‘hope and fear’. The poet desires to be free from the human oscillation between these two states, instead finding lasting peace in God’s presence. Yet, this request for sanctuary does not stem from a desire to avoid spiritual growth; rather, Herbert recognizes that the process of being ‘stretched or contracted’ by divine influence refines and improves them, ‘tuning’ their ‘breast to make the music better’.
Herbert expresses a sense of unity with God, regardless of circumstance. Whether ‘flying with angels’ or ‘falling with dust’, there is a trust in God’s power and love, and an acceptance that wherever they are, God is present. The poem concludes with a sense of spiritual wholeness, where divine love and human faith come together to create a ‘place everywhere’ that transcends physical space and earthly limitations. This notion reflects a contemplative, introspective spirituality that emphasizes God’s constancy even amid human instability, allowing the poet to trust in God’s omnipresence and care, no matter the external conditions or internal states of being.
Christian Art | George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Sinner George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Sinner Lord, how I am all ague, when I seek What I have treasur’d in my memorie! Since, if my soul make even with the week, Each seventh note by right is due to thee. I finde there quarries of pil’d vanities, But shreds of holinesse, that dare not venture To shew their face, since crosse to thy decrees. There the circumference earth is, heav’n the centre. In so much dregs the quintessence is small: The spirit and good extract of my heart Comes to about the many hundredth part. Yet Lord restore thine image, heare my call: And though my hard heart scarce to thee can grone, Remember that thou once didst write in stone. George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Sinner The poet reflects on his spiritual state, describing a struggle with weakness, sin, and the desire for divine alignment. The poem opens with the poet addressing God, expressing discomfort, likened to an ‘ague’ (fever or chill), when he searches his memory for spiritual treasures. This ‘ague’ suggests both a physical and spiritual unease, revealing the tension the poet feels in self-examination. The second line conveys a sense of regret as the poet searches for ‘treasur’d’ holiness in his memory. He recognizes that, although he might strive to keep his soul ‘even with the week’, dedicating every seventh day to God, he falls short. This phrase reflects the expectation to honour the Sabbath, but the poet’s efforts are met with disappointment in their perceived spiritual emptiness. The poet goes on to examine his inner self, describing ‘quarries of pil’d vanities’ that dominate his mind. Here, ‘quarries’ implies an overwhelming quantity of earthly or superficial concerns, while ‘vanities’ suggests that these concerns are meaningless in the context of divine expectation. In contrast, he finds only ‘shreds of holinesse’, fragmented attempts at righteousness, which he hesitates to bring forward as these elements are ‘crosse to thy decrees’, or in opposition to God’s laws. This imagery underscores the poet’s internal conflict and recognition of shortcomings. Further, the poet contrasts earth and heaven, saying that ‘the circumference earth is, heav’n the centre.’ This phrase symbolizes the poet’s focus on worldly concerns (the circumference) that orbit around a neglected spiritual core (the heavenly center). The poet reflects that his life is filled with ‘dregs’, the lesser, unrefined aspects of his being, while ‘quintessence’, or the purest part of himself, is scarce. This ‘quintessence’ is described as the ‘spirit and good extract’ of the poet’s heart, amounting to a ‘many hundredth part’ — a small fraction of life’s essence. The poet realizes that, despite attempts to cultivate holiness, his internal state largely lacks spiritual substance. The final lines shift to a plea for restoration. The poet calls on God to ‘restore thine image’, asking for renewal and transformation. This restoration request implies a yearning to reflect God’s nature more fully, as humanity is believed to be made in God’s image. The poet acknowledges that his heart ‘scarce… can grone’ to God, reflecting the difficulty he feels in truly connecting with or petitioning the divine. The poem ends with reference to the biblical account of the Ten Commandments, when God ‘didst write in stone’. This allusion serves as both a reminder of God’s past willingness to communicate directly and a plea for a similar intervention to etch divine law into the poet’s heart. The poem examines themes of introspection, human fallibility, and a longing for divine transformation. The poet’s self-examination reveals struggle to balance earthly concerns with spiritual commitments, culminating in a plea for God’s direct action to restore spiritual integrity.
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