Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 29, by EDWARD TAYLOR


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 2D SERIES: 29, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: What shall I say, my lord? With what begin?
Last Line: To toss my songs of praise rung on them, higher.
Subject(s): Noah (bible); Puritans In Literature


What shall I say, my Lord? with what begin?
Immence Profaneness Wormholes ery part.
The World is saddlebackt with Loads of Sin.
Sin Craks the Axle tree of this greate Cart.
Floodgates of Firy Vengeance open fly
And Smoakie Clouds of Wrath darken the Skie.

The Fountains of the Deep up broken are.
The Cataracts of heaven do boile ore
With Wallowing Seas. Thunder, and Lightenings tare
Spouts out of Heaven, Floods out from hell do roare.
To overflow, and drownd the World all drownd
And overflown with Sin, that doth abound.

Oh! for an Ark: an Ark of Gopher Wood.
This Flood's too stately to be rode upon
By other boats, which are base swilling tubs.
It gulps them up as gudgeons. And they're gone.
But thou, my Lord, dost Antitype this Arke,
And rod'st upon these Waves that toss and barke.

Thy Humane Nature, (oh Choice Timber Rich)
Bituminated ore within, and out
With Dressing of the Holy Spirits pitch
Propitiatory Grace parg'd round about.
This Ark will ride upon the Flood, and live
Nor passage to a drop through Chink holes give.

This Ark will swim upon the fiery flood:
All Showrs of fire the heavens rain on't will
Slide off: though Hells and Heavens Spouts out stood
And meet upon't to crush't to Shivers, still
It neither sinks, breaks, Fires, nor Leaky prooves,
But lives upon them all and upward mooves.

All that would not be drownded must be in't
Be Arkd in Christ, or else the Cursed rout
Of Crimson Sins their Cargoe will them sinke
And suffocate in Hell, because without.
Then Ark me, Lord, thus in thyselfe that I
May dance upon these drownding Waves with joye.

Sweet Ark, with Concord sweetend, in thee feed
The Calfe, and Bare, Lamb, Lion at one Crib.
Here Rattlesnake and Squerrell jar not, breed.
The Hawk and Dove, the Leopard, and the Kid
Do live in Peace, the Child, and Cockatrice.
As if Red Sin tantarrow'd in no vice.

Take me, my Lord, into thy golden Ark.
Then when thy flood of fire shall come, I shall
Though Hell spews streams of Flames, and th'Heavens spark
Out Storms of burning Coals, swim safe ore all.
I'le make thy Curled flames my Citterns Wire
To toss my Songs of Praise rung on them, higher.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net