The Frank Skinner Show - Frank Skinner's Poetry Podcast: George Herbert

Episode Date: April 29, 2026

Frank gets excited about the brilliant 17th Century poet, George Herbert. The poems referenced are “The Collar” and “The Pulley”, both by George Herbert. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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Hello and welcome to Frank Skinner's Poetry Podcast. This week I'm going to talk about George Herbert. George Herbert, who was born in Wales in 1593. I'll give you a quick bioc, shall I? Yeah, born in Wales 1593, to quite a posh well-off family. His dad died when he was three. His mother was quite an influential figure, a big friend of John Don,

the other great poet of the time, but more of that on another podcast. And John Don read the sermon at George Herbert's mother's funeral. George became an important figure then at Cambridge. He did incredibly well. He got the job of public orator at Cambridge, which was a high-profile post, which led him into politics.

He became an MP. And then suddenly, it all stopped. Suddenly, he decided he wanted to be an Anglican vicar. We don't know whether things went wrong with his political career or if it was just a religious convict. So that's what he did. Now, he became a priest and ended up in the parish of Bermerton in Wiltshire. When he was at Cambridge, he'd written quite a lot of poetry, a lot of it in Latin,

but happily for us, quite a bit in English. And while he was at Bermerton as a vicar, he polished that poetry up, wrote several more, and he put it all together into a collection called The Temple. and he sent this to a mate to be published and then George died. Sadly, why do people always say sadly when they talk about people dying? You know, it's sadly, generally speaking, for everyone. Anyway, especially for George, he was age 40 and his poems were not yet published. They weren't published until a few months after his death.

So he had three years as an Anglican vicar, and then he had, died, but his poetry lives on inevitably. One of the things is I studied him at Birmingham Polytechnic. Don't switch off, polytechnics were a lot better than you might think, you snobs. And one of the poems I studied at Polytechnic was a poem called The Collar, which begins, I struck the board and cried no more, I will abroad. And I'm going to talk about that one today. The reason I mention that particular phrase is it's one that to live with me and which I use in everyday life. If ever I'm about to leave a room, I am likely to go, I strut the board and cried no more. I will abroad.

I will abroad, meaning I'm off. I'm going elsewhere. So because that poetic phrase has lived with me, I thought I'd talk about Herbert's poem The Collar today. It's brilliant. I think he is brilliant. I was blown away when I discovered George Herbert as a student and I hope you like him too. It's religious poetry, but it's religious poetry with very big balls and that's good, I think. Muscular Christianity. I think it was called in chariots of fire, if you remember that movie. Okay, the collar by George Herbert.

I'll read you the first bit. I struck the board and cried, No more, I will abroad. What, shall I ever sigh and pine? My lines and life are free. Free as the road, loose as the wind, as large as store. Shall I be still in suit? Have I no harvest?

but a thorn to let me blood and not restore what I have lost with cordial fruit. I'm going to explain it, don't panic, but you get that the general tone is hard enough of this, but it's nicely expressed. I struck the board, bang, thomping the table. I don't know if you remember the prisoner with Patrick McGuin, that fantastic and extremely odd TV series. but the opening credits including him thomping a desk in rage

and breaking a saucer of an enjoining cup and saucer that was next to him. You get the thing, a joining cop and saucer I'm not happy with, but, you know, I don't write these. They're not scripted. This is, you know, five bullet points

and a lot of love. That's the formula for these podcasts. I struck the board and cried no more. I will abroad. I will abroad. going out, I'm going elsewhere, I'm off. One thing about this poem, when you look at it, there's short lines, long lines, lines that begin halfway down, other lines,

it's chaos and it's made to look like that. There is a form of poetry, I think we've discussed before, called concrete poetry, where the look of the poem echoes the mood of the poem, the subject matter of the poem. There's a famous George Herbert poem called Easter Wings, which you don't have time to talk about today. But that's a good example of concrete poetry, because the way he's arranged the words, it looks like a pair of wings. This one looks like he made a nice poem and he dropped it. And the lines have gone all over the place.

And I think that is to echo the mood of the speaker, furious, upset, frustrated. No more I will have brought. What shall I ever sigh and pine? So is that going to be my life? Just sighing and pining, you know, fretting, wanting something else. Horrible frustration. My lines and life are free, free as the road, loose as the wind, as large as store. So my lines and life.

And lines there could mean the pathways of his life, his choices, his opportunities. which line to follow. I think it could mean is poetry as well. My lines and life are free. My poetry, all this religious poetry, all this poetry of worship, I just want to break free. My lines and life are free. Free as the road.

I can just go anywhere. I can go abroad. I don't have to sit here and be good. Loose as the. the wind as large as store, so loose as the wind. I think that's one of the first moments in the poem where freedom sounds a little bit dangerous and possibly harmful and destructive. The wind, when you think of it, being utterly free, I would associate that with hurricanes

and tornadoes and tremendous damage. It's just a little hint of it there early on that maybe this. freedom that he's seeking isn't necessarily good for him. As large as store, store being a word for plenty. So my lines and life are free, free as the road, all my choices, all my opportunities, they're all there, they are loose as the win. It's just, I've got so much freedom, so much opportunity, and as large as store, I've got so much potential. Shall I be still in suit? And in suit, I think possibly means livery,

the sort of uniform that you wear if you're in service of someone, as he's in service of God. That's what he's complaining about. It can be a legal term, an obligation to attend court. So another, an obligation, somewhere you've got to be. it can be the pursuit of a request as a legal thing. So it's got a lot of sense of constraint, obligation, duty, service, that word, suit. Shall I be still in suit?

Do I have to stay like this forever when I've got all that potential out on the road? Have I no harvest but a thorn to let me be. blood and not restore what I have lost with cordial fruit. What a beautiful line that is. Have I no harvest but a thorn? So for all I do, all my work, all my efforts, I don't bring in great bales of corn. It's a thorn, that's my reward.

Pain, discomfort, that's what I get for all my efforts. Have I know our harvest but a thorn to let me blood? So to let his blood so that he bleeds and not restore what I have lost with cordial fruit. So I'm losing all this blood from this thorn. And obviously there are images here of Christ and the crown of thorns. Have I no harvest but a thorn to let me blood and not restore what I have. have lost with cordial fruit.

So can't I make up for that loss and that pain with some joy, some simple pleasures, sweet fruit? And fruit, I think, means generally the fruits of life, luxury, a bit of pleasure in his life and less thorn. Let me blood, by the way, you know, when you let blood, when someone is deliberately bled as a medical device. That's what is referring to there. So is it going to be just pain and blood

and no lovely sweet fruit to recompense me? Okay, next section. Sure there was wine before my sighs did dry it. There was corn before my tears did drown it. Is the year only lost to me? Have I no bays to crown it? No flowers, no garlands, gay, all blasted, all wasted? Not so, my heart, but there is fruit, and thou hast hands. Recover all thy sigh-blown age on double pleasures.

Leave thy cold dispute of what is fit and not. Right. You see, he's getting angrier and angrier, and he's thinking about what he's lost, what he's given up. Now, I'm not saying that this is George Herbert speaking. I always like to speak of, well, the speaker in a poem, the voice of the poem. But if you were born into the life that George Herbert was born into, and you were a star of Cambridge and an MP,

and now you are an Anglican vicar, you can see that you might look back on Lost, days and former joys and simple pleasures. Sure there was wine before my sighs did dry it. There was corn before my tears did drown it. So these are symbols of abundance. In Genesis, the first book of the Old Testament, Isaac blesses his son, wishing him abundance and he wishes him the fatness of the earth and plenty of corn and wine. And Herber here is talking about that there was wine before my sighs did dry it, there was corn before my tears did drown it.

So I had those things, but I sighed so much worrying about my duties and how I should live my life, that I dried up that wine with. those sighs. It's a beautiful graphic image that sighs might actually dry up wine. There's so many of them and they're so deep and heartfelt. I love that and and there was corn before my tears did drown it. So again, I had all this abundance. But then I cried so. I didn't only sigh and draw up the wine. I cried until all the corn was flooded and I lost that as well. Is the year only lost to me? So is this just me?

I look around and see people having a good time. Is it just me who's losing year after year like this? Have I no bays to crown it? So if the year is lost, it would be all right if I had bays. And he's talking about to wear bays on your head, like a wreath, a laurel wreath, was in ancient Greece and ancient Rome. I think, a sign of triumph it was given for winning things, be they wars, often poetic competitions and things like that. And so it's, yeah, it's triumph, it's victory, it's a bit of

glory, a bit of fame. So I've dried up the wine with my size, I've flooded out the corn. Is the year only lost to me? Have I no base to crown it? Don't I get any credit? Don't I get a bit of glory. Don't I get any spotlight? He goes on. No flowers, no garlands, gay, all blasted, all wasted. So he doesn't, there's no flowers for him, no garlands again, the idea of being, um, reading things when you've been triumphant and successful, all blasted, all wasted. You have to be careful. That sounds like what we would call a slant rhyme, doesn't it? When two words, nearly rhyme and you think oh yeah that's because he's trying to suggest a discomfort and disorder so he doesn't want i mean obviously there's lots of rhymes in this poem i hope you've

noticed them i struck the board and cried no more and later on loose as the wind as large as store and later on to let me blood and not restore for example but i'm reading it in a frenzy and i'm hoping that those are coming to you subliminally those rhymes. If I start reading it, looking for the rhymes, sometimes you can wait five, six lines for the next rhyme because George Herbert is trying to show disorder here and discomfort and rage and everything else. What I was saying about the slant rhymes is you have to be careful. This is a 17th century poem and, well, words were said differently then. So what might be a slanted rhyme could just be a rhyme

for a word that was differently pronounced in the 17th century. Not so crucial anyway. Let's carry on and just enjoy George. Not so, my heart, but there is fruit and thou hast hands. So everything isn't blasted. It isn't all waste. that's just what I've allowed to happen because of my religion, my restraint, my rules. But not so my heart, but there is fruit and thou hast hands.

So he's saying to his heart, you've got hands, you can reach out and take this stuff. Recover all thy sigh-blown age on double pleasures. Leave thy cold dispute of what is fit. and not. So he's speaking to his heart now, to himself though, recover all thy sigh-blown age. You know, he told us he dried up the wine with his perpetual sighing because life was so, oh, so tough, so wearing and so exhausting living to these religious rules. Recovery all those sigh-blown age on double pleasures. So if you live now even more pleasurable than most people, then you can put the balance back again.

Leave thy cold dispute of what is fit and not. And this is an internal dispute, I feel we're hearing about here. What is fit is what and what is not. Should I do this? Should I do that? I'm a religious man myself. And it is a constant internal dialogue. Is this okay? Should I do this? Am I being fair? Am I being just?

I'm not suggesting for a second my atheist friends listening to this, that atheists don't have consciences. I'm just saying that perpetual hellfire just defines it a bit more strongly. Okay, next bit, moving on from that. He's speaking again to his heart, forsake thy cage. thy rope of sands, which petty thoughts have made and made to thee. Good cable to enforce and draw and be thy law, while thou didst wink and woods not see.

Away, take heed, I will abroad. For sake thy cage is a great thing to say to a heart. He's saying it not to the physical heart. He's saying it now to himself, to his nature. Forsake thy cage, thy rope of sands. And a rope of sands, of course, would not hold you unless you wanted to be held. And that is the point that this whole religious restraint is self-enforced. You could just ignore it.

You could live like other people live and have a little bit of religion. I'm talking about now in the 17th century. a little bit of religion here and there, but, you know, not beat yourself up. But Herbert, by the time this poem has been completed and polished up, he is an Anglican vicar, he has made vows, and he is living the life. He's walking the walk,

where a lot of people around him are probably just talking the talk. Okay. A rope of sands obviously wouldn't hold you unless you wanted to be held. For sate thy cage, thy rope of sands, which petty thoughts have made and made to thee good cable. So petty thoughts have created this cage

and this rope of sands. And they've made to thee, to you, my heart, but actually to me, I'm speaking to myself, good cable. So although it's a rope of sands, it really does restrain me.

It holds me back like good cable. Even though it's all in my head, it works. And that's what I have to live with, that cable, to enforce and draw and be thy law. So holding him back, enforce and draw and be thy law. And cable does draw you in that it drags you along, but I think we're onto legal stuff here, to enforce, to draw.

has to draw up a contract. So that cable, that that cage that he has created through his religious devotion, that rope of sands, which to him is like good cable, really strong and holds him back. And legally it enforces and draws. He has to, and be thy law. To enforce and draw and be thy law, he's really tied himself up here. physically, contractually, legally. All his freedoms, all that. The idea that is free as the road, looses the wind, largest store, doesn't matter because he has tied himself up in this religious

duty and he's had anoph ofy. Good cable to enforce and draw and be thy law, while thou didst wink and wouldst not see. here in the meaning of close your eyes. I just, I let it happen. I never stopped and really asked what this was doing to me as a human being, this life, this religious life. And I'm sick of it. Away. Take heed. I will abroad. So you get, I will abroad from the second line comes back again now. And to me, that is the first sign of weeks. in this away, take heed. In other words, believe me, I'm not just saying this. I will abroad. I'm off. I'm going to leave. I'm going to get out of my cage. I'm going to break my rope of sounds.

I'm going to ignore all my legal obligations. In this case, he's spiritual obligations. I'm going to go abroad. But it's the take heed. You know, when people say, I'm warning you, you know, you're in trouble. you think, you'd just do it if it was going to happen. You wouldn't be asking me to take heed. It's the first hint of that. Away, take heed. I will abroad. Honestly, I will do it, really.

Will you, George? Let's see. I'm calling him George. Of course, I mean the speaker of the poem. Last bit, and we're done for this poem. And then just one quick one, and I'll release you. Call in thy death's head, tie up thy fears. He that forbores to suit and serve his need deserves his load.

Okay, I just want to look at those few lines first. Call in thy death's head. So, enough, enough of the death's head. The dead's head, I think, is a reference to the memento mori, which is people would keep a skull in their home to remind them that they were more. that one day they must die and that one day they must face their judgment for the life that they've led if it's a religious, certainly a Christian person. And so it's supposed to keep a check on you, that skull in the house, just to remind you that one day all this will be done and you're going to have to pay for you. So call in thy debt said, I don't want to want the, get the skull, you can have your skull back, reminding me that, you know, I've got

all this judgment to come. I've had enough of that. Call in thy death's head there, tie up thy fears. I've had enough of fear. Just leave me alone. He that forbares, he that sort of holds back refuses, he that forbids to suit and serve his need, using suit in a different way now, to not as in suit as in some sort of livery that you have to wear if you're in service, not something that you have to attend, not some legal obligation, but what suits you? He that forbids the suit and service need deserves his load. So if you don't just look after yourself and do what you want to do and what makes you happy, you deserve all the trouble, you deserve the size, you deserve the tears. But I want to give you this last bit again, in rage, and then just the last four lines of the poem, and you'll see how this poem works.

I don't know if you've seen that film The Usual Suspects, where you're watching it and you think it's a good film list, but I don't know why people rave about it. And then the ending comes and you think, oh, wow, I didn't see that coming. That was brilliant. and now you retrospectively rewrite the whole film with five stars, whereas it was probably three and a half until the ending happened. I think that happens with the collar by George Herbert this poem. So I just want to give you some more of this. And I'm really going to blast it.

I've said this before, Brith Fawcite thy cage, though rope of sands which petty thoughts have made and made to the good cable to enforce and draw and be thy law. Well, they'll just wink and wood's not. away, take heat, I will abroad, calling thy dead said there, tie up thy fears, he that forbids to suit and serve his need deserves his load. But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild at every word, me thoughts, I heard one calling, child.

And I replied, my lord. And suddenly this raging, angry man, resentful of what religion has done to him, hears the voice of God. But as I raved and grew more fierce and wilder every word, me thoughts I heard one calling, child. And I replied, my lord. And child, I mean, you feel like, Even God is pushing his luck here.

This guy is so angry, so furious about what religion has done to his life, to his inner being, how it's restrained him, how it's held him back, how it's deprived him of so many joys. Child reminds you in a big way that he's talking about obedience. I am the father, you are the child. as I raved and grew more fierce and wilder every word me thoughts I heard one calling child and I replied my lord so it's still there the obedience wipes out all of that previous rage it feels like the whole voice of the poem changes

and those last four lines they look a lot more orderly on the page as well as like order has been restored But okay, I had that moment, but I've just remembered what's important. And of course, you're probably aware Jesus saying that, you know, to be, the way to be religious is to be as a child, to try and find that purity, to try and find that clarity, that way of seeing the world without the corruption of experience.

And there you go. And I think, if you'll just excuse me for a, the second why I utterly generalise about the modern reader. I think the whole tone of this poem is very modern, ranting against religion, ranting against any kind of law and order, any kind of restraint on the individual and individual expression. How many people on reality TV shows do you hear say, yeah, I just don't like people telling me what to do? And it It is the modern way. And not just modern.

I mean, the romantic poets, people like Shelley and Byron, you know, they were celebrators of the individual and of avoiding rules and not being held back from free love and all the rest of here. So this kind of obedience is quite different from the romantic view of life of the individual at the center of the universe. verse, which I think still informs your modern mind. So I think a modern reader might read this. And yeah, I think, what a great guy telling God that he can stick it, basically. And he's off. He's had enough of it all. And then it's a bit like, I don't know if you've seen Richard the 3rd,

but Richard comes on, he's really funny and entertaining. You think, oh, we love this guy. And the rest are idiots. And we sort of enjoy his naughtiness. and then he starts killing more and more people and we think we've been tricked to you, haven't we? We've joined in with this guy and we realise, no, he was a, he's a wrongan. And I think here it's possible to think, yes, I'm with you, I'm with you,

oh, and that humility at the end is a less popular, modern approach than rage and resentment against religion. But it works, I think it works. brilliantly. Amazon presents Jeff versus Taco Truck Salsa whether it's Verde,

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Post. Taste. View and enjoy. Via rail. Love the way. I'm going to squeeze in one more. I know I could end now. Simple as that.

But I'm just going to do a quick poem because if you go away and read about George Herbert, You will hear him described as a metaphysical poet, along with someone like John Don, who I mentioned earlier. And, of course, many of you will know what is meant by that. But just as an example, the title of the poem, The Collar. Collar, C-H-O-L-E-R, can also mean irritability. and anger. And so it could be that it's a collar as in a restraint, also a collar as in,

and clerical collars, as we know them, dog collars hadn't really developed in the 17th century. But there was a kind of collar which clergymen wore a bigger, a bigger thing. So there was a collar of restraint, hunting dogs were held back with a collar and lead the why domestic dogs are now, and anger, collar. And, you know, we talk about the multiple meanings of words. But in metaphysical poetry, that goes really through the ceiling. I don't know if there's any football fans out there, but you get footballers, don't you, who are really skillful and clever,

and they beat a man, and it's brilliant to watch, and they create goals, ultimately. And then you get the ones who have that skill, but they have to beat a man twice. And they have to do keep yopi for 10 seconds. And they have to do stepovers and little flicks. And it's called showboating. And then you think, the trouble is with you now, you're not making fire. You're making smoke because this stuff is just frippery.

It's just ornamentation. It doesn't have a solid purpose to it. And that is how I would describe the so-called metaphysical poets. Don't get me wrong, I love it because I love showboating, generally speaking, and I love elaborate metaphors and stuff like that. They are the classic example, the metaphysical poets, of wearing your brain on your sleeve. And it's very much, look how clever I am, poetry.

But I love that. These metaphors are known as conceits. The one that you might have heard of, John Don is talking about leaving his girlfriend for a bit. And he says, don't worry, we're like the two points of a compass. I suppose if you think of what was in your school geometry kit, often, for us, it would be a pencil on one end and a point on the other. But he's saying, that's it, we're joined at the top. So even if I go a long way away, we're pulling that compass apart, but we're still joined. We'll always be joined.

and it's a great thing to throw at someone you're leaving for a while, I think. So there's lots of those conceits, very elaborate metaphors. A metaphysical poem can be like an intellectual puzzle. Samuel Johnson, the 18th century moralist and critic, who you probably know by now I love, gave probably the most famous definition of metaphysical poetry. The most heterogeneous, which is like unrelated, diverse ideas, the most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together.

So he's saying he takes two things like love and a compass, and they roughly yoke them together. That's the idea. I bring it up because George Herbert, he's often put in this category of the metaphysical poets. And that's why I want to do one last short poem, which I think fits a little better into that category. The collar is, I think, rant and then sudden repentance.

Rant and repent, I'm going to call it. Probably the best double act I ever saw. Dave, Rant and Steve repent. Sorry, I'm just rambling now. It's called the pulley, this other poem. It's only four stanzas. When you just look at the pulley on the page, it's much

neater it's nice neat stanzas five lines in each nice neat rhyme scheme a b a b a I assume people know that

but ab aba b a means a is a rhyme so a b a means that a the two a is rhyme so I'll tell you an example of this so

I'll give you the first stanza. When God at first made man, having a glass of blessings standing by, let us said he, pour on him all we can. Let the world's riches which dispersed had lie contract into a span. Now, so A, B, A, B, A, B, A, the A lines there, man can and span. They all rhyme. And the two B lines, buy and lie, rhymes. So A man, B, buy, A can, B lie, A span. I hope you got that. Most of you all know that, but I always hate it when people assume that I know things that they're telling me about. So it's, yeah, it's five-line stanzas, the first and last line are all six syllables.

that the three lines in the middle are basically 10 syllables with minor variation just because George Herbert is clever and doesn't want to make it too uniform. But generally there's a sense just of looking at the poem before I read it of order. And you'll see why it's a very different theme. When God at first made man having a glass of blessing standing by, let us said he, pour on him all we can. Let the world's riches which dispersed like contract into a span. So God now the creator is making man and it's very basic. He's like he's some alchemist in some little room somewhere. When God at first

made man having a glass of blessings standing by so he's got the ingredients here, the blessings glass with all the blessings in them. Let us, said he, this being God, pour on him all we can. So yeah, let's really, let's give him all we've got. Let the world's riches which dispersed had lied, dispersed. So the world's riches which are all over the globe, I'm going to bring them in. It's like I'm going to draw them all in together. So let the world's riches which dispersed had lie contract into a space. So they're going to come smaller, smaller, all gathered into something that he can hold in his hand, contract into a span, the span of his hand.

I'm going to give man all the world's richest. That's how God starts. That's its initial resolution. And because this is God creating, you can see why this poem is more orderly and has more regular rhymes. Because it's God and so it's all about order. and everything is balanced and working well. Okay, second stanza. So strength first made away.

So he's pouring the blessings into man. Now, I'm sorry, he says man, but, you know, they didn't know then. We mean humankind, men and women, of course, and any other categories that might be listening. So strength first made a way. That's the first thing I'm pouring in. Then beauty flowed.

Then wisdom, honour, pleasure. When almost all was out, God made a stay. Perceiving that alone of all his treasure rest in the bottom lie. So strength first made a way. The way strength does, pushy, strength always. That goes first into this human being that God is making. then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure. So they're all coming in out of this glass of blessings.

When almost all was out, so nearly empty, God made a stay. God suddenly stops mid-pour in this image. Perceiving that alone of all his treasure rest in the bottom lie. So the only blessing left in this glass that's been pouring into humanity is rest, if you like, contentment, I suppose, ease. And then God has to think, for if I should, said he, bestow this jewel also on my creature. He would adore my gifts instead of me and rest in nature, not the God. God of nature, so both should lose us be. And this is where the so-called metaphysicals make you think,

God, this is like a cryptic crossword. I'm going to, you know what I've referred to in the past on these podcasts as the homework line? There's plenty of them in metaphysical poetry. I've heard it called also, by the way, Baroque poetry, which I quite like. I once went to a Baroque church in Mexico. And Baroque, you probably know, is the most ornate. form of architecture, art, whatever.

You couldn't, there was, you couldn't see any wall space on this church. There was so much decoration and pictures and everything. And I love it. I love the riches of this kind of poetry. So let's go through it together. For if I should, said he, bestow this jewel also on my creature. That jewel being rest, rest. contentment, peace if you like. If I give them that as well, in other words. So if I should, said he,

bestow this jewel also on my creature, he would adore my gifts instead of me and rest in nature, not the god of nature, so both should lose us be. Now what on earth does he mean by that? I'll tell you what I think he means. If I give humanity, this creature I'm making, if I give them rest, contentment, peace, they would adore my gifts instead of me. So they would love all there is in the world, all these treasures.

And we've heard what they are, strength, beauty, wisdom, honour, pleasure. They'd be so happy in them they wouldn't need anything else. They'd be happy just in what nature gives them. And as he said, he would adore my gifts instead of me and rest in nature, not the god of nature. So the gifts would be enough.

He wouldn't need any extra idea of something else, something bigger, something bringing it all together, some massive backdrop. this world that he lives in. You know that James Bond, the world is not enough. I think that's, that's what God's aiming at from humanity. That's the feeling he wants. For if I should say he bestow this duel also on my creature, rest, contentment peace, he would adore my gifts instead of me and rest in nature, not the God of nature. So both should lose us be. And I think the both is God and nature. So if you just love nature and rest in nature because you're happy with all its gifts,

you don't see what nature is. And in Herbert's worldview, nature is a way of suggesting God in a simpler way than trying to give them a massive philosophical, explosive idea. So you're supposed to see what the world can give and think of it as gifts of God, think of it as a representation of a life to come, of a hint, of a little taster, of the starter of a main course that is yet to be. But he's saying that God is thinking, if I give him rest, if I give him that, it won't need me anymore. The world will be enough and nature will lose out. because nature is supposed to be the gateway drug to me,

whereas now it'll just be nature full stop. So that will lose out, and I will lose out, because humanity won't come to me because they'll think they don't need me. Okay, last paragraph. We're almost there, and then I say, I'll release you. Yet let him keep the rest, but keep them with repining restlessness. let him be rich and weary that at least if goodness lead him not yet weariness may toss him to my breast so let him keep the rest now he's playing with the idea of rest of course here now we've said that

what man isn't going to get from god is rest but now he's using it as the rest that which remains of the blessings yet let him keep the rest but keep them with repining restlessness, repining as in discontented, disgruntled. So, oh yeah, you can have all those other treasures, but he's never quite going to be happy. He's never quite going to find any peace, any satisfaction, any contentment. That's what I'm going to do.

I'm going to withhold rest. I'm going to withhold completeness from, him yet let him keep the rest but keep them with repining restlessness let him be rich and weary that at least if goodness lead him not yet weariness may toss him to my breast so if he's not so intrinsically good that he goes to god this ache this yearning this need that seems to be in all of us will eventually throw us up, as he says at the end there, may toss him to my breast. Like being in a storm at sea, that's what life can be at times. And then, then you are thrown to God rather than go to him willingly. And as many of you will know, it's when things are tough that you think,

you know what, I might have a pray. That might work. And I think he's suggesting, suggesting that here, that it's the storms of life that might throw you to God if you were not inclined to go in some other way. So again, going back to me stereotyping modern sensibilities, I think we like the idea of angst, don't we in the modern world? We like a sense of non-completion and non, a sort of a yearning for something. We don't quite know what it is. This is sort of thing you might hear people talking about again on reality TV shows. I don't know what it is, but I know I need to find that thing. And it makes us all tragic heroes.

And we like that. We like that idea. I think we're less keen in the modern world on the idea of God putting a deliberate recall mechanism, a sort of a God magnet in us, which is that angst and that feeling of being something missing. and that's going to draw us to God. I don't think we like that idea quite so much. St. Augustine, if it makes you feel any better,

who was a father of the church, as he's known, a very important theologian, said, our hearts are restless until they rest in thee. And that, I think, could be seen as a subtitle for this poem. One last and quite metaphysical poetry point. This poem, as I said, called the pulley. You know what a pulley is one of those things with wheels on where you lift heavy weights? And then I think you do, we're back to the compasses and separation of lovers.

You think, what is it? Why is it called the pulley? I think because, I don't know if you've ever used a pulley, but you pull a rope downwards and it raises something else up. That's how a pulley works. And God has given us this lack of rest, this incompleteness, this yearning, this hole. And because of that, even though that is a weight to carry, it is a weight pulling us down. But in pulling us down, according to her, but it raises us up. because yes, it is a load to bear that never any rest, never any contentment. But because that is pulling us down, we are in fact being raised. The weight is being raised by on the other side of the pulley as we are raised up to God. It's a sort of block and tackle of love is what I would call it. You might think that, yeah, a pulley is pushing it a bit for a religious metaphor, but this is metaphysical poetry.

You might feel they are heterogeneous ideas yoked by violence together. I love it personally. I love George Herbert. And I read his poetry for the first time, you know, 40 years ago more than that. And it's still really, really well. works for me. You don't have to be religious to really appreciate it, I think. Do try more George Herbert. Thank you so much for listening to Frank Skinner's poetry podcast. Don't forget to follow and then you'll never miss an episode. See you next week.

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