George Herbert

     George Herbert (1593-1633) wrote some of the most moving and profound religious poetry in the English language.  In our far less religious time, some readers might question the value of what seems archaic and even irrelevant verse about a God that should be filed under myths and legends.  However, reading this poet's religious poems invites readers to explore interesting psychological depths of two of the best poets the English language has produced.  Through most of his life, Herbert pursued secular careers, before he took holy orders and became an Anglican priest in 1630.  But devoting his life to God was hardly easy, as Herbert’s “Affliction I,” demonstrates. 

Affliction

  

When first thou didst entice to thee my heart,

I thought the service brave;

So many joys I writ down for my part,

Besides what I might have

Out of my stock of natural delights,

Augmented with thy gracious benefits.

I looked on thy furniture so fine,

And made it fine to me;

Thy glorious household-stuff did me entwine,

And 'tice me unto thee.

Such stars I counted mine: both heav'n and earth;

Paid me my wages in a world of mirth.

What pleasures could I want, whose King I serv'd,

Where joys my fellows were?

Thus argu'd into hopes, my thoughts reserv'd

No place for grief or fear.

Therefore my sudden soul caught at the place,

And made her youth and fierceness seek thy face.

At first thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses;

I had my wish and way;

My days were straw'd with flow'rs and happiness;

There was no month but May.

But with my years sorrow did twist and grow,

And made a party unawares for woe.

My flesh began unto my soul in pain,

"Sicknesses cleave my bones;

Consuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein,

And tune my breath to groans."

Sorrow was all my soul; I scarce believ'd,

Till grief did tell me roundly, that I liv'd.

When I got health, thou took'st away my life,

And more, for my friends die;

My mirth and edge was lost, a blunted knife

Was of more use than I.

Thus thin and lean without a fence or friend,

I was blown through with ev'ry storm and wind.

Whereas my birth and spirit rather took

The way that takes the town;

Thou didst betray me to a ling'ring book,

And wrap me in a gown.

I was entangled in the world of strife,

Before I had the power to change my life.

Yet, for I threaten'd oft the siege to raise,

Not simp'ring all mine age,

Thou often didst with academic praise

Melt and dissolve my rage.

I took thy sweet'ned pill, till I came where

I could not go away, nor persevere.

Yet lest perchance I should too happy be

In my unhappiness,

Turning my purge to food, thou throwest me

Into more sicknesses.

Thus doth thy power cross-bias me, not making

Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.

Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me

None of my books will show;

I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree,

For sure then I should grow

To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust

Her household to me, and I should be just.

Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek;

In weakness must be stout;

Well, I will change the service, and go seek

Some other master out.

Ah my dear God! though I am clean forgot,

Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.

     Issac Walton considered “Affliction I” an example of Herbert’s “pious reflection of God’s providence” (Walton’s Lives).  No doubt as we read the poem, we see and feel Herbert’s religious belief permeating every aspect of his life.  But to narrowly define his thoughts as pious overlooks the piercing complaint his words ultimately reverberate.  The origin of that complaint surfaces subtly in the beginning of the poem when he looks back to when he was first drawn to God.  In stanza 1, Herbert, when younger, felt “entice[d]” to God, but what was it that drew him to God in the first place?  Did his desire to worship God arise of its own accord or was it produced by the “gracious benefits” that “Augmented” the “many joys” he had secured, and consequently, was his relationship based on receiving “thy gracious benefits,” then rendering “the service brave” to God?  Grateful to God for bestowing on him “gracious benefits,” Herbert states in stanza 2 that “heav’n and earth/Paid me my wages in a world of mirth.”  The word “wages” suggests a negotiable connection making devotion dependent on the quality and quantity of benefits received.  Finally, the verbs, “entice[d]” and “entwine[d],” can be read as Herbert accusing God of misleading him into this relationship, and  stanza 3 leading Herbert to think these “benefits” “argu’d [him] into hopes” that his life would be untouched by “grief or fear,” and were what “made” him “seek [God’s] face” in the first place.

     Stanzas 4 and 5 reveal that Herbert has experienced much “grief and fear,” and he blames God’s gifts of “milk and sweetness,” and the early days strewn with “flow’rs and happiness” for making him “a party unawares for wo,” unprepared to face the “years sorrow did twist and grow.”  Beset by “Sicknesses [that] cleave my bones,” and “Consuming agues [that] dwell in ev’ry vein,/And tune my breath to groans,” he fell into despair, “Sorrow was all my soul; I scare believed, /Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived.”  As we move into stanza 6, that despair was lifted temporarily by restored health, but the “joys” and “pleasures” Herbert knew initially have forever vanished, as cherished “friends die” around him.  Through stanzas 7,8,9, Herbert feels betrayed into being a scholar at Cambridge University, that “wrap me in a gown,” which “entangled” him “in a world of strife, /Before I had the power to change my life.”  When he found the resolve to change his career, God beguiled him and “didst with Academic praise/Melt and dissolve my rage.”  That “rage” rises again in stanza 9, and he berates God for “not making/Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking.”  The reader should notice that Herbert has shifted to present tense verbs, which signal he is now focused on the present moment in his life. 

     Herbert is completely disoriented by all these twists and turns in his life and cannot perceive any logic in the way God has treated him.  He also fears the future, since “None of my books will show” what God has in store for him.  Most likely, he expects more sickness and sorrow, and to escape more suffering, he imagines becoming “a tree,” a tangible, safe body with a simple entity.”  Once inanimate, his limbs “should grow/To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust/Her household to me, and I should be just.”  This last clause is particularly astonishing.  Is Herbert assuming a god like will or authority to dispense justice?  Or is he assailing God indirectly for failing to treat Herbert the way he believes he deserves?  

     The final stanza is the most intriguing in the poem.  He first purports to accept meekly and stoutly whatever God may afflict him with: “Yet, though thou troublest me, I must be meek;/In weakness must be stout.”  But then he immediately rejects this idea and asserts he will break from God and “go seek/Some other master out.”  Then, twisting back toward God once again, he cries out longingly, “Ah my dear God! (Italics mine). Now devotion surprisingly supersedes affliction, and he submits to God’s will for him.  But does he?  For the poem ends with the ambiguous “Let me not love thee, if I love thee not.”  What is the meaning of this final line?  Does the penultimate line carry through to the poem’s last word, suggesting submission to God’s will however it affects him?  Or is he, with that final line, rebuffing that will, turning inward, away from God toward an assertion of self-will?  The possibility that Herbert, on this rare occasion in his life, is exerting his independent will, should even excite the staunchest atheist who normally prefers to ignore all religious feelings and ideas.  At the very least, the inability to resolve the poem’s ambiguity enriches the experience the reader has reading and interpreting the poem.  Other poems by Herbert are unambiguous and clearly express Herbert’s intent.  But here, equivocation persists, leaving the reader to ponder Herbert’s meaning.