The Flower
The Freshness of God's Return
The poet marvels at how sweet and clean God's returns are, like spring flowers after frost, melting all grief away.
How fresh, Lord, how sweet and clean your returns are! Like the flowers in spring—to which, besides their own beauty, the frosts just past bring tributes of pleasure.1 Grief melts away like snow in May, as if there were no such thing as cold.
The Heart's Hidden Root
The poet reflects on the heart's recovery from a shriveled state, having gone underground like flowers to the root, dead to the world.
Who would have thought my shriveled heart could have recovered its greenness? It had gone clean underground, as flowers go down to see their mother-root after they have bloomed—where, together through all the hard weather, dead to the world, they keep house unknown.✦2
Wonders of Death and Life
The poet declares God's power to kill and make alive, longs for an unchanging paradise, and describes his own growth toward heaven mingled with sin.
These are your wonders, Lord of power—killing and making alive, bringing down to hell and up to heaven in an hour, turning a funeral bell into chiming music. We speak amiss when we say, "This is so," or "That is so." Your word is everything, if only we could read it.3 Oh, if only I were past changing once and for all—fixed firmly in your Paradise, where no flower can wither!✦ Many a spring I shoot up fair, offering toward heaven, growing and groaning that way. Nor does my flower lack a spring shower—my sins and I joining together.4
The Scorching of God's Frown
The poet describes how God's anger causes him to droop and turns every place into a burning zone.
But while I grow straight, still reaching upward as if heaven were mine, your anger comes, and I droop—what frost can match that?56 What pole is not the burning zone, where everything scorches, when you turn and even the slightest frown of yours is shown?7
Budding Again in Humility
In old age the poet buds again and writes, and concludes that we are but flowers that glide, and that humility leads to paradise.
And now, in old age, I bud again; after so many deaths I live and write. I smell the dew and rain once more, and take delight in writing verse. O my only light, it cannot be that I am the one on whom your storms fell all night.8 These are your wonders, Lord of love: to make us see that we are only flowers that glide past. Once we can find that out and prove it, you have a garden for us where we can stay.✦ Those who want to be more—swelling with abundance—forfeit their Paradise through their pride.9
Read the original English
How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean Are thy returns! ev'n as the flow'rs in spring; To which, besides their own demean, The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring. Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing.
Who would have thought my shrivel'd heart Could have recover'd greennesse? It was gone Quite under ground,as flow'rs depart To see their mother-root, when they have blown; Where they together All the hard weather, Dead to the world, keep house unknown.
These are thy wonders, Lord of power, Killing and quickning, bringing down to hell And up to heaven in an houre; Making a chiming of a passing-bell, We say amisse, This or that is: Thy word is all, if we could spell.
O that I once past changing were, Fast in thy Paradise, where no flow'r can wither! Many a spring I shoot up fair, Offring at heav'n, growing and groning thither: Nor doth my flower Want a spring-showre, My sinnes and I joyning together.
But while I grow in a straight line, Still upwards bent, as if heav'n were mine own, Thy anger comes, and I decline: What frost to that? what pole is not the zone, Where all things burn, When thou dost turn, And the least frown of thine is shown?
And now in age I bud again, After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my onely light, It cannot be That I am he On whom thy tempests fell all night.
These are thy wonders, Lord of love, To make us see we are but flow'rs that glide: Which when we once can finde and prove, Thou hast a garden for us, where to bide. Who would be more, Swelling through store, Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
Scripture echoes
- ↩Col.3.3;Gal.6.14 — For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Gal.6.14 — But may it never be that I should boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.
- ↩Isa.40.6-Isa.40.8;Ps.103.15-Ps.103.16;1Pet.1.24 — A voice says, "Cry out!" And I said, "What shall I cry?" All flesh is grass, and all its faithfulness is like the flower of the field. Isa.40.7 — The grass withers, the flower fades, for the breath of the LORD blows upon it; truly, the grass is the people. Isa.40.8 — The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever. Ps.103.15 — As for mortals, their days are like grass; like a flower of the field, so they blossom. Ps.103.16 — For the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. 1Pet.1.24 — For all flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls,
- ↩Isa.40.6-Isa.40.8;Ps.103.15-Ps.103.16;Jas.1.10-Jas.1.11 — A voice says, "Cry out!" And I said, "What shall I cry?" All flesh is grass, and all its faithfulness is like the flower of the field. Isa.40.7 — The grass withers, the flower fades, for the breath of the LORD blows upon it; truly, the grass is the people. Isa.40.8 — The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever. Ps.103.15 — As for mortals, their days are like grass; like a flower of the field, so they blossom. Ps.103.16 — For the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. Jas.1.10 — but the rich in his humiliation, because like a flower of the grass he will pass away. Jas.1.11 — For the sun rises with the scorching wind and withers the grass, and its flower falls and the beauty of its appearance is wasted; so also the rich man will fade away in his pursuits.
Notes
- 1 ↩Early modern demean means demeanor, mien, or natural bearing/appearance; rendered here as beauty to carry the spring-flower figure in plain contemporary English.
- 2 ↩Herbert's flower image treats the heart's winter as a hidden return to the root, not mere extinction; 'keep house unknown' means they dwell in seclusion, out of the world's sight.
- 3 ↩Early modern 'spell' means to decipher or read aright, not magically; rendered as 'read it' for contemporary sense while keeping the force of understanding God's word.
- 4 ↩The spring shower is the tears of repentance: speaker and sins together water the spiritual flower that grows heavenward.
- 5 ↩Source 'decline' keeps the flower metaphor: to droop, sink, or wither under God's anger, not merely to refuse.
- 6 ↩Elliptical 'What frost to that?' means 'What frost compares to that (anger)?' — divine displeasure outstrips any natural killing cold.
- 7 ↩'Pole' and 'zone' are geographical: the cold polar regions versus the torrid zone. The claim is that God's slightest turn and frown make even the poles a place where all things burn — nowhere stays cool under his displeasure.
- 8 ↩Source 'versing' means composing verse; rendered as 'writing verse' for contemporary clarity while keeping the poet's craft in view.
- 9 ↩store rendered as abundance (plenty/riches); swelling means puffed up or inflated by that abundance.
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