Album cover art for "Sin’s Round" by George Herbert

George Herbert - Non-Music, Lyric Poem (Literature)

Sin’s Round by George Herbert Lyrics

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Lyrics

Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am, That my offences course it in a ring. My thoughts are working like a busy flame, Until their cockatrice they hatch and bring: And when they once have perfected their draughts, My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts. My words take fire fro m my inflamed thoughts, Which spit it forth like the Sicilian hill. They vent their wares, and pass them with their faults, And by their breathing ventilate the ill. But words suffice not, where are lewd intentions: My hands do join to finish the inventions. My hands do join to finish the inventions: And so my sins ascend three stories high, As Babel grew, before there were dissentions. Let ill deeds loiter not: for they supply New thoughts of sinning: wherefore, to my shame, Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am.

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Meaning of "Sin’s Round" by George Herbert

“Sin’s Round” opens with a stark, immediate confession: “Sorry I am, my God, sorry I am.” The speaker acknowledges a profound regret, but it’s not a simple apology. The lyrics quickly establish sin as a relentless, self-perpetuating force, moving “in a ring.” This isn’t a one-off transgression; it’s a cyclical trap. The core tension lies in the speaker’s internal landscape, where thoughts are not passive but “working like a busy flame.” These thoughts are actively incubating something dangerous, described as a “cockatrice they hatch” and bring forth. This potent imagery suggests an internal evil, a destructive force born from the mind, which then ignites words, making them take fire from inflamed thoughts. The lyrics masterfully illustrate sin’s escalation. Words, once fueled by thoughts, become a destructive force, spitting forth like a Sicilian hill. But even this isn’t the apex; the speaker reveals that words alone don’t suffice for “lewd intentions,” leading to physical action as hands join to finish the inventions. This progression culminates in sins ascending “three stories high, As Babel grew,” a striking biblical allusion that frames personal transgression as a monumental, hubristic construction. What makes these lyrics so impactful is their relentless portrayal of sin as an inescapable, self-feeding mechanism. The repeated phrases, like the opening and closing “Sorry I am,” reinforce this “round” quality, suggesting a perpetual cycle of transgression and regret.

This AI-assisted editorial analysis was reviewed, improved, and approved by the LyricsWeb editorial team.

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Credits

Writers
  • George Herbert